#father and son clothes swap

[sisterkosho]

Imagine Illuso wearing Steely Dan's clothes :3

I love this so much honestly because I just know in my soul that they’re related. There’s so many similarities between them that you can’t convince me Illuso isn’t Steely Dan’s son or something. By far one of my favorite HCs.

#illuso #steely dan #la squadra di esecuzione #agents of dio #jojo’s bizarre adventure #vento aureo #golden wind #stardust crusaders #jjba #va #gw #sdc #I’ve also seen people hc him as vanilla ice’s son #and I definitely see the vision #but steely dan is way more fitting imo because aside from their looks even their personalities are similar #and their stand’s also have a similar concept where the stand itself is very physical weak with very little destruction power #but their abilities are what make them deadly when used correctly #I think it’s funny that even their clothes are similar #an outfit swap would be really cute tbh #like father like son #pinterest was trying to tell me something here

[differenteagletragedy]

swap au: the boy across the street is Baxter, the boy who lives far away but is still your friend is Cove, and the boy who comes for but one summer is Derek.

When I tell you the powerful and immediate urge I had to rewrite the entire dang game with this ... this is so much fun, thank you!!!

You could hear the new neighbors moving in at your spot behind your house. You'd thought about taking a peek to see what kind of people they were like, but decided to stay out of the way, watching clouds on the poppy hill instead. With how nosy your moms had been after the "for sale" sign disappeared, you'd be learning about them soon enough.

After a while, the clouds stopped holding your attention and you stood, looking for a new activity. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the shore -- there was always something to do there.

When you arrived, the typically empty beach wasn't quite as empty as it usually was. Up near the path, away from the water but still on the sand, was a boy. He looked to be your age, maybe a little older. He hadn't heard you approach, and was instead staring straight ahead at the ocean.

"Hi," you said, and you quickly broke whatever spell he was under. "I haven't seen you around before."

"That would be because I just moved here," he said. He pulled on the hem of his shirt, then smiled at you, extending a hand. "My name is Baxter Ward."

At the time, you thought it was weirdly formal, something grown-ups did to greet each other, not kids. But over time, as you got to know him and all his quirks, you looked back at the moment fondly.

That summer, he became your best friend.

You took to each other immediately, and if you had it your way you would've have spent every waking minute together. Sometimes Baxter couldn't hang out though -- he didn't talk about it much, but he seemed sad sometimes when he talked about his parents, and the few times you spoke with them you got the feeling they didn't like you very much.

But Baxter, as oddly formal as he was, wasn't afraid to break rules. And after a meeting between his parents and yours that didn't seem to go so well, your moms were quick to welcome him whenever he wanted to come over. You were able to get close.

By the time the summer was over, you could hardly remember what life was like before he came into it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five years later, you were 13, and Baxter was still your best friend. He went to a private school while you went to the public one, and from what little he told you about it, he didn't really have friends there. It was a boring place to be, he told you, and he'd much rather be spending time with you than with those spoiled rich kids.

He never bothered noting that he was also a spoiled rich kid.

One day, the two of you were in your bedroom, wasting away a day together. He was lying comfortably on your bed and you were sitting at the foot of it, leaned against the window he regularly used for secret visits -- when he didn't want to hear his parents complain about him spending so much time with you, he found it easier to just slip away unnoticed.

"There's a boy coming over today," he mentioned, ending a comfortable silence. "I think you'll find him interesting."

"If you think he's interesting, then I'm officially scared," you teased.

He smirked in response. He was proud.

Over the past few months, Baxter had started getting more experimental with his fashion. He'd always dressed a bit preppy, and that hadn't changed much, but now he was moving towards clothes that were only black and white. He'd shown you a few more alternative pieces he'd ordered, things that matched the color scheme but were a little more out there, but he hadn't had the nerve to wear them out yet.

"He's the son of a business partner of my father's," he explained of the mystery boy. "I've met him a few times before, he's very shy."

"Then why do you think I'll think he's interesting?" you asked.

"He's also very cute."

You blushed, and he laughed.

You'd had a crush on him for a while, and you couldn't tell if he knew, or if he might like you back, but it was certainly clear that he enjoyed teasing you about anything even remotely related to dating. It always flustered you, but he enjoyed that, too.

He opened his mouth to say anything else, but before he could, the door to your room opened and Liz popped her head in.

"Some kid is at the door asking for you," she told Baxter. "I didn't realize you'd officially moved in."

"Thank you for the warm welcome, sis," he said easily, then stood and looked at you.

"Let's go," he said. "That would be the boy of the hour."

He held out a hand to help you off the bed, and, blushing again, you took it. There was that smirk again, but this time he chose to let it go.

When you went downstairs and to the door, you saw the boy had retreated back towards the street, looking uncomfortable. He was tall and gangly with bright green hair and glasses, and Baxter had been right -- he was cute.

"Cove!" your friend called out brightly, leading you over for an introduction. The boy, Cove, held up his hand in a slight wave. He was nervous.

But as awkward as Cove was, he managed to work his way into your cozy little friend group of two, turning it into a trio.

At one point during the summer, you and Cove had exchanged phone numbers. His father -- his parents were divorced and he lived in another neighborhood with his dad -- was much more easygoing than Baxter's parents, so you were able to visit him quite a bit.

You were even invited over for a sleepover, which Baxter had been surprised about. He'd reacted strangely when you told him about it, it seemed -- you weren't sure if he was upset that his parents had never let you stay over, or if it was something about you getting close to Cove. But in the end, he'd put on his old friendly smile and told you to have fun.

When your moms dropped you off at Cove's house, he greeted you at the door and invited you in, as awkward as the day you had met.

"It was my dad's idea, to ask you to stay over," he explained as you made your way to his room to hang out. "Not that I don't want you to stay over! It was just his idea is all."

"Why would he want me to stay over?" you asked.

He turned to face you as you came to a stop in his bedroom, but he kept his eyes down. He started rubbing his arm, a nervous tick you'd picked up on pretty quickly.

"I don't ... I mean, I don't really have many friends, I guess," he said. "My dad wants me to have more. I think he worries about it."

"Why didn't you ask Baxter?"

"My dad doesn't like his dad," he said.

That made sense to you. You didn't like Baxter's dad either.

Cove didn't live in your neighborhood, but he still lived near a beach. You walked there together and spent most of the evening there, and when you went back, his dad had cooked you dinner.

Throughout the day, he had loosened up, but when it was time for bed, he started getting shy again. His father had laid out two sleeping bags side by side on the living room floor, and after you both got into them, he didn't say a word.

"Cove?" you asked.

He didn't say anything. You turned to face him, sure he hadn't been able to fall asleep that quickly. In the faint light coming in from the kitchen, you saw his eyes wide open, and maybe a tiny bit of color on his cheeks.

"Are you all right?"

He turned his head toward you slightly, not enough to make eye contact, and said, "Yeah."

It wasn't very convincing.

It was your turn to stay quiet -- you weren't sure what to say. Then, without further prompting, he turned to face you too. He met your eyes.

"I get nervous around you," he said plainly. "More than other people. That's why I don't say stuff sometimes."

"Oh," you replied. Then, "Why?"

He shrugged, a decidedly non-romantic gesture, but it still tugged at your heartstrings.

He ended up changing the subject, and you laid there together for a long time, whispering about what you'd done that day and what you wanted to do tomorrow, what you wanted to do with your lives. It was nice, and when you finally fell asleep, you thought maybe you could see Cove being in your life for a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five more years went by, and more big changes came with them.

Baxter was your best friend and still your neighbor -- for the time being. You'd graduated high school and were now adults, and you knew he was desperate to get out of his parents' home.

Cove was still important to you, though you'd been seeing him less and less. His father had cut professional ties with Baxter's, and there was a bit of bad blood there. He'd also decided he wanted to go to college to study marine biology, which was no big surprise, but it did mean that a lot of his free time went to studying.

You weren't sure what exactly you wanted to do, but at the beginning of the summer, an opportunity for a quick adventure before diving into real adulthood presented itself, almost literally on your doorstep.

Gossip spread easily in Sunset Bird, and your moms had heard that the newly vacant condo next door to Baxter's house had been rented. They were eager to see who was coming into the neighborhood, but because they had to leave for work before anything happened, they asked you and Baxter, who was almost always over, to keep an eye out.

Baxter agreed before you could say anything. He'd always done anything your moms asked. You thought it was because he was thankful that they'd unofficially adopted him as their third child.

The two of you settled outside on your front step, waiting and chatting idly about some nonsense he'd made up about who the new neighbor would be. He was really getting into the details when a cab pulled up across the street, and a guy who looked to be about your age stepped out.

"This is not what I expected," Baxter whispered to you before letting his mouth hang open.

You watched as the newest resident of your tiny town moved to the back of the car, opening the trunk and easily pulling out a suitcase. He was all muscles and tan skin and had such a big smile as he tipped the driver. The cab left, and the stranger must have felt your eyes on him, because he turned to you then and smiled even wider.

"Hey, neighbors!" he called out, sounding as friendly as he looked. He started making his way over, and you saw bright green eyes twinkling at you.

Baxter stood, sticking his hand out to help you up. You took it, and he used his other hand to smooth his black and white hair.

"My name's Derek," the guy said holding out a hand to you the same way Baxter had when you first met him ten years before. You shook it, and he smiled directly at you before moving to shake your friend's hand as well.

You and Baxter introduced yourselves, then Baxter asked, "So, Derek, what brings you into our tiny neck of the woods?"

"I'm on vacation," he answered. "Well, kind of. I play college soccer, and there's a coach in the city that's really good, I'm going to work with him this summer. My parents wanted me to have an actual vacation too though, so ..."

He finished his thought by gesturing to his condo.

"I see," Baxter said, and you could hear it in his voice already -- he was turning the charm on. "Well, you know what they say about all work and no play. If you ever feel the need to play, don't hesitate to find us."

Ten years of friendship, and Baxter could still make you blush. If Derek was taken aback by his forwardness, he didn't show it -- instead, he laughed openly.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. You thought you saw him sneak a glance at you as his smile turned smaller, but you weren't sure.

You learned quickly that Derek was serious about his work. He left for long stretches to go into the city for his private training, and you frequently saw him out for runs around the neighborhood.

But he also, it seemed, had taken a liking to you.

One evening, he knocked on your door. You were home alone, so naturally you were the one to answer, and he was there, as always, with a big grin on his face.

"Hey!" he said. "I totally get if you have plans, but if not I thought I'd come check to see if you wanted to hang out?"

"I'm free," you told him.

"Cool. Do you wanna come over?"

When you paused, he quickly continued, telling you, "Oh no, I'm not ... I'm not trying to ... do you like video games?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting next to Derek on his couch, starting up a game of MarioKart.

His composure regained, he said, "I hope you know I'm not going to take it easy on you."

"Why would I think you'd take it easy on me?" you laughed, looking at the tv to choose your character.

"Pretty people always think they can get their way."

That stopped you in your tracks. You glanced over at him, and he was smiling at you.

"You would know," you replied, trying to return the compliment.

As you played, you both found little ways to get closer to each other. Once he scooted over to show you which button to press to do a certain move, and soon after you'd done the same, pretending like you'd forgotten.

After a particularly intense race, it happened -- you finally beat Derek. He'd stayed true to his word and hadn't taken it easy on you, beating you time after time, but now, you'd bested him.

You stood up enthusiastically, cheering for yourself, and ever the gentleman, he stood up as well to cheer along with you.

The next thing you knew, he had his strong arms around your waist, and yours had gone up around his neck. He leaned in a bit, then paused.

"I like you," he said softly, "and I think it would be nice to kiss you. But I'm going back to college in a couple of months, and --"

"A couple of months is enough for me," you told him.

He smiled again, then kissed you. It was gentle and sweet, and over far too soon.

"I'm thinking I should probably make a little bit more time this summer for playing," he said, giving you a smirk that could almost rival Baxter's.

#our life beginnings and always #our life #olba #baxter ward #cove holden #derek suarez #our life baxter #our life cove #our life derek #i cannot emotionally handle how much i love this #imagine the ghost moment with baby baxter #the rv moment with baxter #the boardwalk with cove #mountain scene with derek #DEREK'S GOODBYE ARE YOU KIDDING

[mrwavellswaps]

Mr. Wavell, If someone where to try and get your help steal the body of their boyfriends hunky father, would you be able to help?

Is this even really a question? Of course I would help!! There’s nothing I would love more than to help someone steal a hunky dilf body. Especially if that dilf happened to be their boyfriends dad 😈 Oh but how would I do it I wonder?…

Of course there loads of different and o ways I could help make it happen. Giving them the power to ghost possess people. Have them put on the dad’s clothes to cause a transformation into him. Give them something that’ll transform the dad into a bodysuit that’ll permanently seal after being put on. However I think I’d wanna keep it simple this time. I’d just give them a once in a life time body swapping power. All they have to do is look at the person they want to swap with and think really hard about becoming them. The magic would do the rest!

Simple as I said but sometimes that can be the best way to do it. Imagine the dad standing there confused as his sons boyfriend glares at him lustfully only for his soul to be forcefully pulled from his body moments later. Both their souls swirling around before diving into the opposite body. The dad quickly going from being even more confused and shocked than ever to being full on terrified as he looks across the room to see his old dilf body grinning at him maliciously. Soon realising as he looks down at himself that his sons boyfriend somehow just stole his body!?

After that the dad would be forced to watch as the body snatcher begins touching and groping at his new hot hunky dad body. Naturally the dad would beg for him to swap back, promising he won’t tell anybody but his former self would only continue to smile as he tells him it’s permanent. Now the dad con do nothing but sit back and watch as another man parades around in his body, constantly going on about how hot he is. Meanwhile he’s stuck in his sons boyfriends body. Sure it might be younger but, it was nowhere near as good as his old body. What was his son going to think about all this?…

Meanwhile I’d probably have been watching this all unfold. Whether it be from the comfort of my mansion, watching it on the TV that runs on the same magic as a crystal ball alongside my boyfriend Dane. Or I’d be there watching in person, only invisible as to not disturb the incredibly hot scene unfolding before me. Definitely don’t wanna miss the part where they whip out that fat new dad cock for the first time that’s at least twice the size of their old one…

#asks #magic #permanent #male body theft #male body swap #identity theft #hairy #mr wavell #dad #age progression #muscle theft #straight to gay

[https-furina]

ft. kaeya x gn!reader

angst, no comfort, character death, not proofread.

i’ll format, name, etc. this another time.

love doesn’t seem to be easy to come by for him. he’s spent years chasing after traces upon traces of love, clinging to the feeling that one day he’ll feel that pathetic warmth once again. dumped in mondstadt with seemingly no recollection of his family, his home; where he belongs.

crepus and that red haired little boy took him under their wing without so much as battering an eyelid. they housed him, raised him and didn’t even consider any alterior motives. they treated him as their own; brother and son. he grimaces at the thought of crepus’ ponytail that diluc takes after so much, the rough red stubble on his pale face that scratched kaeya’s soft baby cheeks whenever they hugged.

that night flashes in the dark of his eyelids whenever they close shut for the night after a long day at the knights of favonius’ headquarters. the metallic tang of blood, the waft of the smoke from the fatuus’ bullets and the fresh soil dampened by the rain. he recalls it all, his brows furrowing when he sees diluc huddled by crepus’ body.

he’d been too late.

when he started loving you, trusting you enough to bring you close enough past the cocky façade he puts up in public, you saw his quieter moments when he’s head deep in paperwork, no longer throwing flirtatious comments in your direction or when that forsaken day rolls back around and he thrashes in his sleep, pulling the covers of himself and crying out for his father, the only one he knew - crepus.

he swore he’d never be too late again.

thunder roars overhead and this scenario is all too familiar, except some roles have swapped. he kneels in the wet mud, not caring for the cleanliness of his attire as he clutches your body close. the familiar dark clothing of his brother stands not too far away, illuminated by the flashes of lightning. the rain soaks their hair, sticking it to their skin.

his tears blend with the rain, trickling down his face in glittering trails on his tanned skin as he stuffs his nose into your hair. your scent is fading, being overwhelmed by the rain. kaeya’s sword lays discarded in the mud not too far away, glittering with the blood of treasure hoarders as diluc too drops his claymore limply.

he truly believed he got to see his brother happy again. he could make the effort himself and try fix their relationship but he knows now that it’ll be like putting a shattered bowl together with a bandage. his heart plummets into the pits of his body as ruby eyes see his younger self in kaeya.

days later, diluc offers kaeya a room at the winery again. the first act of many planned ones to try feel like brothers again and kaeya accepts. it’s quiet but even adelinde is glad to see that young blue haired boy wandering aimlessly around the winery once more.

and it’s diluc now who shuffles into his brother’s bed to hold his shaking form as he thrashes in his sleep, crying your name. calloused hands pull his brother close, tears stinging his eyes as he tries to be brave for him - just like when they were boys.

in the end, they only have each other, don’t they?

#( sealed letters ) #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin kaeya #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya angst #https-furina

[wishmaster]

Body swap 72 : ErroR- Merged Subjects

Zeke was your regular cop at least by day he was straight acting one of the guys but at night is when his kinky side kicked in. For months he had been kicking around the idea of doing one of those 72 hour body swap to really let his freak flag fly. He decided he was going to do it and he knew the kind of guy he wanted to swap with, a real slutty twink in fact that was all he could picture was spending three daysa s a firm assed kinky Twink getting fucked 24/7. Something he knew he could never do in his current life.

Kevin was a 21 year old exotic dancer and escort, his real money came from online but for the extra cash he signed up to swap his body it was good money for a couple days work. Besides he usually got to see how the other half lived. On the day of the swap it was extremely stormy, thunder, lightning. When the programmer went o perform the swap his computer was struck by lightning mid swap. the body's lit up, Kevin's body disappeared and Zeke's, well Zekes seemed to change. Hid big gruff body seemingly aged down a bit and became well different, all of his clothes, his uniforms including the one he was wearing, they all became leather. He looked at himself in the mirror, he'd become a twink cop hybrid.

He went off to live his life, the clinc assumed somehow during the storm the two had become merged and now Kevin and Zeke were some sort of super version of themseslves.

The first few days were awkward as Zeke could get used to seeing stranger in his mirror, Tensions at the station became high as Zeke only ever showed up in his new leather uniforms which didn't sit well with the captain. But it was the nights, when he'd go to sleep he'd black out as if he was no longer in charge of his body... He wasn't at night Kevin took over and for rthe past month he's been continuing his life as an kinky exotic dancer under the name of Officer Dick.

When Kevin took over there was a slight change to Zeke's body

He's whore himself out as well until one night he managed to whore himself out to his Captain's Son, his father discovering his kinkiest officers night time activities when he turned back in his son's bed the next morning. This would be the end of his Police career but soon Zeke would give in to the kinky Twink side that he so wanted to experience all those weeks before deciding to let Kevin take full control on a permanent basis, he merely enjoyed the ride and what a ride it was.

#body transformation #male transformation #swap gone wrong

[mr2swap]

SwapCrop: emergency vacation.

-Heeeey son!, how about the Bahamas cruise? I hope you took some photos to show off to the boys in the asylum-

I hadn't seen my father for more than a week but he was as excited as the first day we exchanged, I left my suitcase in a corner of my own full house in my father's dirty old clothes, and approached the huge bodybuilder body that my father was now in, that was my body.

He wrapped his huge and long arms around me and gave me a big hug which made me remember how fragile I was now, or was it just my father was just showing off a little in the last few days in my young body?

At first, it was strange getting used to being a bald 0-year-old man instead of a young bodybuilder who spent his entire teenage years in the gym instead of partying with friends, but when you get used to it the back pain in the morning isn't so bad. bad, actually I would like to take more than 3 vacations a year, I still remember how stressed I was the first time my father suggested that I take this type of vacation that he offered to the company Swap Corp, I ended up drunk for a week going to Las Vegas in my grandfather's old body, From you, like I never did and tried everything from the buffet, he even gave me a walk on the striptease alone To make sure my grandfather's dick was still alive.

Before we separated completely I took one of his massive arms and began to examine him, he was as hard and swollen as a week ago, maybe a little more. My father loves these little vacations that I take every time I need to get out of town for a bit. my routine of 3 hours of weight lifting in the gym and the strict diet of meat and yams.

As I examined his arm, my father's face did not stop smiling with superiority at any time, every time we exchange our bodies to take a little break from our lives I have to listen the following week to all the comments from my brothers in the gym saying that I became the most arrogant bitch in the entire gym, AND that when he's not flexing my muscles in front of a mirror he was trying to get a different guy into the showers to help me lather up my back…Or that's what my father says.

Without my asking, he took off his shirt revealing his hard abs and huge pecs that he made dance as soon as he gave me a show. We both fell silent as I stroked his six pack with my calloused old fingers. My grandfather seemed very excited to tell me everything he did this week but it probably wasn't much more than being the world's most arrogant man and poking youngsters. to my department.

as we spent our last day with each other's bodies i couldn't get the thought out of my head that this was my last day of vacation and that tomorrow i will wake up again at 6am to go jogging in the dark and the cold of the park next to my apartment. maybe it's time to talk to grandpa and plan that year-long cross-country vacation in an old RV I've been fantasizing about.

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my patreon, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

#body swap #male body swap #bodyswap #body switch #male transformation

[furrytalebeard]

Mike and pops

Right where did we leave off. Well my former athletic brother was a bumbling adult baby and my dad who was a rough basketball coach was now my boyfriend. My dad also switched careers somewhere along the reality shifts to being a professor, probably to help with the fact my brother now has low intelligence and no athletic skills.

At first it was weird having a now sort of nerdy father but what was more weird was after switching his expectations for me to love, he was completely infatuated with me. It was great before this my brother got all the love, of course he still got attention being a pants pooper but my father swooned over me. I’d started calling him Travis, his first name as we were more like boyfriends now if anything.

Travis walked into the room and saw me and smiled, opening his arms for a hug. "If it isn’t my beautiful boyfriend and son Mike. He said as I shyly hugged him, feeling his large round belly. It was still awkward being doted on so much, something I wasn’t used to. One thing I noticed ever since my dad switched to being a professor is that he hardly had time to workout and he was only getting larger. Before this he had sort of a muscle gut, and would workout with Joel. Now when he wasn’t teaching he was changing diapers or giving private lessons. I wanted to make a switch, see if I could speedrun his own gains. I switched out the traits of fat, with muscular I watched as his suit began to become loose as his muscles bulged out.

For a moment he was stunned before he grabbed me and pulled me into another much more forceful hug. "Sorry son just really felt like squeezing you, hehe" he said as I got a face full of his hard abs. In an instant I regretted my decision, his fat belly felt much nicer and now it was like hugging a body builder over my fat attractive dad. The problem was I couldn’t easily override changes I’d just made so I’d have to swap out other traits to get the desired results. I figured reality might shift in my favor if I made my dad a bit lazier. So I switched out his traits of hard working, with laziness. Instantly my father’s weight began to return to match this change in traits, even his sense of style began to vanish. I watched as my father went from stunned to letting out a huge fart then patting his big belly. "Gyhahaha that was a big one. Imma go sit my feet up honey, why don’t you go check on your brother."

I hadn’t noticed it but as I walked to check on Joel the light in my amulet began to dim. Joel had really begun to embrace his role as my "little" brother . He was playing games, of course the only games he could play were those meant for young kids. I could tell he needed a change from the way his onesie sagged in the back and the faint smell but I didn’t feel like it so I let him sit in it.

“I’m tryna play games! Don’t bother me go let dad kiss you or something!” He took his pacifier out to say and pouted.

“Whatever little bro.” I said annoyed. I went back to find my dad with his feet up on the coffee table watching tv with a beer in hand.

"there you are son URRP." my dad said motioning for me to come give him a hug and a kiss. "Come give me some sugar then get started on dinner, pops is hungry"

I kissed him then groaned as he burped in my face, I got back his belly but I wasn’t a fan of his lazy attitude. I’d need to make another change. I looked to my amulet and noticed its regular glow had dimmed, when I tried to make a change nothing happened. Drat, I’d have to wait for it to recharge meaning my dad was stuck like this.

For the next couple of days my dad would get home from work and toss of his work clothes in exchange for an unwashed wife beater. He’d then kick up on the couch and drink beer, leaving me to cook in clean. I also had to take over the responsibilities of taking care of Joel which was smelly and unfun. At the end of the day my dad would get into our bed and fart up a storm, laughing and saying it was part of being old. The only solace I had was that when he wasn’t being a lazy slob he was great in bed if you know what I mean. Basically things were sorta a mess but I could tell the amulet was slowly regaining power, so I left it in my drawer to gain continue charging.

———

end note:

hope you guys enjoyed the sequel to my last story if you guys are enjoying it leave a comment, let me know if you have any story ideas. What would you like to see next, maybe a part 3?

should Mike continue to use the amulet or maybe his dad Travis will find it. Or perhaps even Joel could find it and get his revenge? Lemme know!!!

#male tf #mental change #transformation #age progression tf #dumbing down #hypnosis #gay hypnosis #strong daddy #silverdaddy #beefy #male transformation

[kylecrusoe-captions]

If you’re doing requests, might I humbly ask a story of a boomer dad getting annoyed at how lazy his college age son is and the son gets irritated back and decides to mess with his dad by swapping their bodies, leaving dad as the one having to deal with his son’s life and taking orders?

"My god son, what are you doing?" Greg groaned at his son who was reclining on their couch playing a video game.

Tim rolled his eyes as he paused the game. He'd just barely sat down to relax after class, homework, and before his night shift at a retail job. "Playing a game, Dad," he responded in an annoyed tone.

"I let you live here rent free to make college easier, not so you can just sit around playing your games!" Greg said walking over to the console, and hitting the power button. "Go mow the lawn or something!"

Tim felt anger rise in his throat. "I wish you knew how hard I worked!"

"And I wish you knew what it was like to have a son that behaves like you do!" his dad retorted.

Something must have been listening to them that night, because in a blinding flash, father and son found their perspectives reversed.

"Wh-what?!" said Greg in Tim's body, now sitting on the couch.

Tim looked around, realizing what had happened as he saw his reflection in the mirror. A devious grin spread on his face. "Well, 'Tim', best listen to your father and go get the lawn mowed before work," he said.

"What are you talking about? I'm your dad!" He protested. "And your body feels so fatigued!"

"Well as far as the world's concerned, this body fathered that body. Who knows how long we'll be like this? If you don't do as I say I can do whatever I want to your reputation." Tim threatened.

"OK ok fine. I'll mow the stupid lawn." Greg said, standing up. He stopped in the mud room right before going out and felt compelled to take a picture of his new self.

"Ugh, he dresses so ridiculously. This dumb hoodie but also shorts? I don't understand him." Not wanting to waste time, however, he slipped on his son's sneakers and went out to get the lawn taken care of.

Meanwhile, Tim in his dad's body went up to the master bedroom of the house. He grinned as he realized he had the whole evening to relax and do as he pleases. He slipped out of his father's buttoned up shirt and nice pants. "Why does he wear such uncomfortable clothes for so long?" he muttered to himself.

He caught sight of the mirror and couldn't help but run a hand in his new body. "Damn dad, you keep yourself so smooth! It does show off your killer body though."

Tim felt this body's dick stir as he rubbed his huge round muscles. Apparently his dad's body really responded to getting worshiped. "Think I know a few guys who'd love to give dads body what it's craving," Tim chuckled. He lay down in his father's bed and snapped the first photo he planned to add to a new grindr account.

#body swap #dad/son #daddy

[lilis-doodle-dome]

Mafuyu looks,,, so much better than Kasa. Oops-

Mfks swap au group lv 1 Kizuna ranks

There was more interest in this au than expected, so I’ll add more info on this post. But also please feel free to ask any questions you have!

More info:

- The Tenma parents should probably be divorced with how much they fight and usually Tsukasa ends up being the rope in their constant Tug-of-war

- Tenmama treats Tsukasa like the daughter she always wanted to have (despite literally having a daughter) so that’s why his hair is long and some of his casual clothes are feminine colors! She wants him to follow in her footsteps to become a pianist, since he’s such a prodigy.

- Tsukasa has mentioned the fact Saki enjoys the piano and would probably be happy if her mom took an interest in her playing, but Tenmama thinks Saki would need ‘a few more years of experience before she really gets it’ since ‘after all there’s a difference between a child enjoying making pretty sounds, and a real appreciation for an instrument’.

- That sentiment made no sense to Kasa bcs he doesn’t care at all about the piano and so how could *he* appreciate it more than someone who loves it, plus he thinks Saki’s playing is much better than his. It also caused a weird tearing sensation in his chest, but he didn’t understand it.

- Meanwhile the Tenma dad is also awful. He is very tied up in traditional masculinity, so he gets upset with Tsukasa for doing so many feminine things, despite that literally being Tenmama’s doing. He wants Tsukasa to have academic success and get a prestigious career (lawyer, doctor, etc.) since ‘men aren’t lucky enough to be able to marry into money so they can do frivolous things like play piano’

- He does respect that mr. Aoyagi was able to make a career out of piano, but sees him as one of the ‘lucky few geniuses’ that made it and thinks it’s far too unstable of a job for Kasa to pursue. He wants to ‘set his *son* up for success’ after all

- This forces Tsukasa to have an incredibly strict routine each day so he can do enough to satisfy both his parents, bcs if the Tenma’s think he’s even slightly prioritizing one of his tasks over another they’ll start fighting about him ‘taking a side’

- which can lead to fun results such as: The time his father came into his room while he was asleep and cut his hair to a ‘proper male’ length, or when his mother bodily dragged him out of cram school with everyone watching bcs he needed to spend more time on piano instead. Their fighting always seems to hurt their kids more than them.

- Also Tsukasa usually wears his school uniform, instead of casual clothes, everywhere since his parents can’t argue about a school mandated outfit. The only thing he wears as an accessory, and he wears it with every outfit, is a fish hairtie Saki got him when they were younger. He makes an effort to hide it in his hair since otherwise his parents would take it, but it’s the only clothing item that is strictly *his* and he can still remember when wearing made him happy. Even if he can’t feel it anymore the memory is still nice.

- Saki also gets mistreated but in a different way, even worse than treating her like glass, the Tenma’s treat her like she’s still the toddler she was when she first got sick. They act like she’s an incompetent, whiny baby rather than a Teenager in their first year of Highschool and it infuriates her to no end. So most of the time spent with her parents is spent fighting angrily about something, while they patronizingly laugh her off with comments like ‘Young girls these days, so spirited’

- it doesn’t help that Tsukasa absolutely refuses to get involved and when he is dragged in, he always makes non committal statements that are more platitudes than actual thoughts on the matter. Which of course just frustrates Saki even more

- especially since Tsukasa has been helping Saki sneak out of the house during her ‘rest time’ (she basically has one hour of free time after school then she’s expected to stay in her room the rest of the day to ‘destress’, this was not recommended by the doctors her parents just decided on their own) so she can actually live life now that she’s out of the hospital. So clearly he does agree their parents are too overbearing in ‘caring’ for her, so why doesn’t he say anything when she argues with them?

I was planning to talk more about the group’s dynamics and Sekai’s but umm,, guess it’s all just Tenma’s dynamics instead. I still haven’t covered even close to everything about this family mess ha, they’re complicated.

I will mention, however, since it ties in to what I’ve talked about:

- Tsukasa’s Sekai is the Chess Sekai, it’s a massive chessboard with a stretch of grey area that cuts right through the middle of it, each VS’s appearance is based on a piece. The remaining pieces are based off of expectations that have been placed on him (e.x a piano for the piano career and on the opposite side books for the academic career)

- The pieces will move based on what is currently ‘winning’ in his life ( e.x. The books will be further forward if it’s currently exam period and the like). But since there’s that section of grey cutting the board in half none of the pieces can ever cross to the other side and the game is in a perpetual stalemate, with pieces moving meaninglessly back and forth forever

Not technically relevant but I’d feel bad not mentioning:

- Mafuyu’s Sekai is the Storybook Sekai, if you’ve ever seen Van gough’s painted world (it’s a movie) that’s what her Sekai looks like, it’s like being in a painting but the world still moves around you so you can watch the brushstrokes shift as if they were the real thing they depicted. Rather than plushies she has little cartoon animals from various fables she’s read throughout her life, their personalities reflect the story they come from.

#my edit #edit #fanart #au #project sekai #pj sekai #swap au #pjsk #tsukasa tenma #pjsk tsukasa #tsukasa #pjsk rui #pjsk nene #pjsk emu #kizuna ranks #mafuyu #pjsk mafuyu #mafuyu asahina #pjsk ena #pjsk kanade #pjsk mizuki #pjsk saki #saki tenma #info

[deathmetalunicorn1]

RoR Romantic Master List

Specific Reader Type Romance Masterlist

Specific Character Romance Masterlist

Virgin Killer Dress

Virgin Destroyer Dress

Small Chest

Confidence Booster

Celebrating their B-Day

Anxious Pregnancy Announcements

Accidental Confession

Stress Cuddles

Piano Lullabies

Yanderes who Love a Married Darling

Asking them to Dance

Lost Memories

Proposals

Losing you to Another

New BF Who's This?

Yanderes and their Human Darling

Swapping Bodies

Big Brothers Against Dating

Lazy Mornings

Future Babies to the Rescue!

Best Man

Amnesia after Accident

The Price of Waiting

Lap Pillows

She's Taken!

Love Triangles

Stockholm Syndrome

Sarcasm is an Art

Cockblocked

No Overworking Allowed

No Kissing!

It was an Accident!

Lady Loving the Ladies

Titty Hugs

Titty Hugs Part 2

Words Hurt

Reap what you Sow

Fake Out

Courting HCs

Baby Surprise!

Make me a Father

Misunderstanding

Being in Love

Vanished Love

Vanished Love Alternate

No Flirting

Fan Clubs and Cults

Goodbye my Angel

Pregnancy Surprise Failed!

Stolen First Kiss

Rescue my Heart

Chocoholic Reader

Love's Cursed Sleep

Return my Sunshine to Me

Don't Fight over Me!

All Hail the King of the World

All Hail the King of the World Part 2

Tea Shop Owner

Sad Songs

Good Luck Kiss

The Ultimate Prize

Shy Little Moon

My Sweet Babies

My Sweet Babies Part 2

Daddy's Little Princess (Leonidas' Daughter)

My Dear Valkyrie

Preferences

Miniature Love

Lending a Helping Hand

Overworked and Overstressed

Strong Love

Queen of the Kings

Son of Solomon

King Arthur Reader

Wearing his Clothes

Source of All

Source of All Part 2

Source of All Part 3

Hot Touch

Arranged Marriage

Rose Loving Reader

Wild First Encounter

Wild First Encounter Part 2

Sending a Prank

Accident

Stone Angel (Angst)

Anxious Tummy Issues

Changed into a Salty Tween

Goodbye, Our Third (Hades x Reader x QSH)

Sad Love

Trio Whoops

Cheating Comforts

Human Fighters Body Swap

How Far I'll Go (yandere)

Demon Hybrid Emotionless Reader

#masterlist

[newtonsheffield]

I love how Kate noticed straight away while Anthony didn’t notice until he left the house, such a typical Dad move 😂😂

But imagine the twins get the rest of the family in on it the next time they swap and everyone gaslights Kate and Anthony into thinking one twin is the other.

Anthony, absolutely mortified as the optometrist’s assistant looks at him as though he’s a terrible father for bringing the wrong kid to pick up glasses.

“I… know my sons apart. They’re… identical twins and they think it’s… funny to… I’ll just take these, and if there are any fitting issues I’ll just… bring the actual… kid in.”

He scooped Neddy up still giggling wildly at his own joke as Anthony paid.

“He’s a cutie.”

“His mother neglected to tell me her grandmother was a twin before we got married.” Anthony said by way of explanation. “I was 21 when he was born and… not prepared.”

But imagine Edwina, grabbing Miles by the back of Neddy’s Tshirt. “Milo, are we tricking Amma and Dad again?”

Miles grinned, his glasses abandoned. “Yep!”

Edwina sighed, leaning against the doorframe, her arm held out to stop Ben who was walking by. “Well why didn’t you tell me and Uncle Benny so we could get in on it?”

Ben blinked, narrowing his eyes, “Is this Miles?”

“Yep.”

Ben held his hand up for his Nephew to high-five “Genius. Neddy pretending to be you or are you both pretending to be Neddy?”

“We’re both Neddy.”

“Excellent.” Edwina chuckled. “Go, go go.”

“Should we feel bad about gaslighting them do you think?” Ben sighed as they left.

“I don’t think so.”

And it’s hardly five minutes with Edwina tutting sadly, “Do you two really not know how to tell your own sons apart? Sad.”

Anthony pinched the bridge of his nose, “They look exactly the same!”

“You’re the one who thought it would be cute to buy them matching clothes!” Kate hissed back at him.

“This one’s Neddy, I’m sure of it!”

“Are we?” Ben said, smirking, “I wouldn’t be.”

“You two helping with this is the most hurtful part.”

#parent trap au #you’re losing me au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

Six Sentence Sunday

Today I am using Six Sentence Sunday to unveil my new banner and Official Title™ of the RWRB dads' storyline swap fic — though the working title of Daddy Issues has been fun, it really doesn't fit the ~vibes~ so without further ado, it's now named... Honey, you're familiar (like my mirror years ago).

This fic is lowkey an accidental song fic for "From Eden" and I'm kinda obsessed. Without further ado, enjoy this excerpt (warning for reference to loss of parent):

If Oscar Díaz were here, maybe he’d ask, “Isn’t that the boy you had that crush on, mijo?” Maybe he’d make an observation, something like “He’s a looker.” Maybe he’d urge Alex on, whispering, “Trust the Díaz charm. Shoot your shot, chamaco.” But he’s not here, and the truth is Alex doesn’t know what his father would say.  So instead, he just has to trust his gut — which is telling him to turn away from the hot almost-naked boys and approach the hot English-prince-son-of-James-Bond boy. He may be fully clothed — in a button down and blazer in Rio in August — but he’s featured in way too many of Alex’s dreams for him to miss this opportunity.

Shout out to @littlemisskittentoes for the titling help! And thank you to @kiwiana-writes and @zwiazdziarka for the tags!

I'm early-ish for once, so no-pressure tagging: @anincompletelist @affectionatelyrs @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @matherines @read-and-write- @rockyroadkylers @rmd-writes @saintlynomenclature @tintagel-or-cockleshells @ssmtskw @welcometololaland @14carrotghoul but if I forgot you and you see this, the tag is open! Tag me though so I can see :)

#rwrb fanfic #red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #fanfiction #rwrb fandom #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #six sentence sunday #daddy issues #except now I guess I should tag it by it's proper name #honey you're familiar #rwrb wip #happinessofthepursuit writes

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Eleven

Rating: Explicit Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

no tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

Tumblr Masterpost

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

AO3 Link

Translations: hāedus - younger sister Bratsios - bitch lēkȳs - older brother Muñus - mother ñuhus trēsys - my son zēapos - little jadeling

Warnings: Aegon's suicidal ideation

CHAPTER ELEVEN - Whose Side Are You On

A maiden finds her claws. A drowning boy swims for the surface.

Curiosity was an excited animal inside of Lady Abrogail Strong, and it had taken every ounce of self restraint she had honed in her whole life not to immediately launch into the years of questions and ideas that had built inside of her.

She deserved praise for such restraint, and she knew none would come, but it didn’t keep her from wanting to crow about how good she thought she’d done. Abby had barely touched the meal, absently dropping her extra cold meats onto Aegon’s plate if only to get through it faster. Not even her betrothed’s clear hangover and the scent of sweat and cheap perfume clinging to his wrinkled clothing could bother her. She wouldn’t let it.

No, he would not ruin her morning with his terrible decisions and she wouldn’t dwell on it either.

“Lord Ryam will be here in a fortnight and wishes to discuss the amphora shipments,” Uncle Simon said, his brogue rumbling through him thicker than her father’s accent had been, but so heartbreakingly familiar in its ebb and flow. “It might prove a good opportunity to start getting settled, Your Grace.”

Aegon shoved a rolled piece of ham in his mouth, elbows on the table and eyes darkly circled and red rimmed. “Amphoras?” he asked through a mouthful of food. Abby raised an eyebrow at him before blowing gently on her cup of mint tea and taking a sip so she wouldn’t fling it at him.

“I would also like to take the opportunity to reach out to House Buckler. Lady Elinor came with the Baratheon retinue and she shall likely be coming with us,” Abby said quickly before Aegon could further embarrass himself. She smoothed her hands over the table. “While the Arbor is a purveyor of wines, I would like to look at bolstering the competition. I think it could be an interesting opportunity for us.”

Larys slathered cream upon his bread. “You will find my sister has fancied herself the Lady of Harrenhal for as long as she found words,” he said softly, his voice carrying over them in even tones. Abby’s ears pricked with heat. His words may have been encouraging, but there was a tone in his voice that made her feel like a child who had done something clever. Mockingly indulgent. “You will find yourself a very astute student, eager to learn. Isn’t that right, dear sister?”

“I only wanted to be helpful.” True to his word, they had begun having a weekly supper together, going over Uncle Simon’s latest reports on the running of their holding and that of Harrentown. It hadn’t given her much insight into the inner workings of her elder brother’s mind, but she had appreciated the education he was providing.

Now she felt the curl of doubt that Larys was so good at coaxing out of her. Aegon’s eyes were on her and she resolutely didn’t meet his gaze, instead taking another sip of her tea.

“Well that explains the rather detailed letter I received,” Uncle Simon chuckled, and it was fond. “The queries you both had were rather insightful. It is good to see you are also interested in learning to rule, your Grace.”

Aegon paused in chewing, and Abby felt the heat creep into her cheeks. She had stated in her letter that the questions had been from them both, and had framed it as a joint venture, wanting to put the best foot forward for Aegon, for them both.

“You’ll have to forgive me, Uncle,” Aegon said, voice rough from his clearly exciting night prior. She took a sip of her tea, some of the tension in her chest easing at the way he took to her Uncle so familiarly, speaking as if they were family already. “I do not quite remember all that I had asked sweet Abrogail to convey. I do know she wasn’t sure whether or not to put in the thoughts on aqueducts.”

That drew Abby’s gaze to him, but Aegon was cracking open his soft boiled egg and soaking pieces of bread in the sunny yellow yolk. She was hit with the recollection of how excited she’d been finding out about aqueducts in a dusty tome in the library. She’d dragged it all the way outside, trapping Aegon in her sudden lecture of how beneficial such things would be.

He remembered it.

“Th-that’s true! Aqueducts!” She said, finding her voice and her confidence once more. “My more immediate concern was, well… let me just go and show you.” She pushed away from the table and hurried into her bedroom that had now seen more use in the past weeks than it had in years. She came back with a haphazard folio of parchment and two larger rolls, setting them down on a side table. She took one of the large rolls, furrowing her brow. “Uncle Simon, could you hold this end for me, if you please. Ah, thank you. So I’ve been working on this for quite some time. Athair assisted with more logistical questions with the completion of the renovations and rebuilding of the hall. Harrenhal is simply too big for a simple seat. The stables can house two thousand horses, and is unfeasible. So with the sept needing to be rebuilt, and the repairs that…” she paused, the memories catching her off guard and pressing onto her with the weight of them, “that needed to be done after the fire, I thought that perhaps what would be better suited was opening it to the people.”

“The people?” Uncle Simon’s brow raised in curiosity. He didn’t seem quite as surprised as she had initially worried.

“Yes! I thought we could dismantle the right barracks by the godswood, and install the glassworks properly. In addition, the Tower of Dread - I haven’t figured what we should rename some of these towers, they really are awful - can be renovated into apartments or, if we could figure something out, to build shops and homes and places of education for those in Harrentown and truly, in the area around. Maidenpool, High Heart, even places further north. Not only that, but the everyday workings of Harrenhal do not require such expansive forges. We aren’t building an army. We could open them up to something more communal. Those who cannot afford to open their own smithies yet could work here, perhaps renting space. Of course, we need several of these for the reconstruction efforts, but I truly think we should focus on repurposing rather than to bring it up to the hubris-driven monument of cruelty that Harren the Black created. We can turn what was a curse upon our lands to something that gives back.”

Abby was breathless when she was finished, the parchment crinkling in her grip. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and Larys avoided looking at her to take a furtive bite out of his tansy cake. Uncle Simon’s eyebrows were raised so high, Abby thought they’d merge into his receding hairline.

She did not look at Aegon. She very purposely did not look at him, but from the corner of her eyes, she could see him occupied with his goblet.

“Well.” Uncle Simon broke the silence and picked up some of the parchment she had left on the table. The sheafs of paper were currently in danger of the potential tipped honey jar. “Your father did not exaggerate when he spoke of your insightfulness, niece.” Warmth spread between her ribs at the praise. “The exuberance is all your mother’s. That woman could command an army as easily as a summer ball.”

The comment stunned Abby. It had been years since someone had so easily spoken of her mother. Abby’s own memories were hazy. The smudged images she still held were of a frail woman with a warm smile and gentle voice. She could remember cold hands smoothing over her hot brow when she was ill. Visions of her mother sitting beside Queen Alicent, soothing her in those early days of bloody, picked fingers, flitted through her mind. The early days of seeing how sad the adults were, how angry they could be. The blissful ignorance in not understanding why.

“I shall look these over, Abrogail. Whatever ideas you and Prince Aegon would like to implement, I am at your command and will provide my counsel, just as I counsel Larys, and have your dear father.” Uncle SImon gave a hearty laugh and plucked up some of his cold meat. “How strange it shall be to have family in residence once more.”

The rest of the morning meal was uneventful, and Abby was caught in the strange current of nerves and excitement and the lingering uncertainty of how she felt about the mention of her mother.

“Celeste Strong could command an army as easily as a summer ball.”

Abby could not recall a time hearing her mother raise her voice the way the queen did, or Uncle Otto. Never did she recollect her mother raising a hand either. No, her few memories were warm and gentle comforts, but she could remember quiet conversations between her mother and the queen, when her mother’s blue eyes had been narrowed, and mouth pinched in displeasure. Abby remembered wondering why the queen was being scolded as a child once, how fierce her mother’s face had been.

Her father had been capable of yelling, and that was incredibly rare. The last time she’d heard him raise his voice was at Harwin after everything that had happened at Driftmark. They hadn’t realized she’d been there. The Strong household had never been a yelling household. It had never been a place she’d ever feared.

“We have dinner with the Tullys in the small hall,” Aegon said, his snappish tone pulling Abby from her thoughts. She looked over her shoulder to see that he’d followed her from the apartments. “Try not to throw yourself at Elmo Tully as you did with Vance at the feast.”

Abby’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open at the sheer audacity of what dared come from his mouth. “I beg your pardon, Prince Aegon. I seemed to have been distracted and therefore could not have possibly heard the accusation against my honor.”

He rolled his bloodshot eyes, and Abby’s firsts clenched in her pale blue skirts. Heat flamed in her cheeks, and there was a mad moment where she ached to push him over the railing into the court below.

“You do beg so prettily-”

She stepped towards him, pushing her finger into his chest. “And you’ll never hear me beg for you again, especially if you dare continue to speak to me this way,” Abby hissed. She would not cry, she refused to show him how he hurt her. “Your loss, clearly, since you are threatened so by their mere proximity, and my daring to smile and harmlessly flirt.” She scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder, her curls wild to keep the chill from off the back of her neck. “I’m not the embarrassing one who showed their face this morning drunk and smelling like a brothel.” She cursed the way her voice cracked at the end, and turned on her heel to go find Wylla, to distract herself with those who would support her, and not be the target of their self-loathing.

There was a time not so long ago, where she might have taken full responsibility for Aegon’s foul mood, but she was no longer that little girl, a somewhat steelier young woman taking her place, one who understood that she was not responsible for the entire weight of other’s emotions, including Aegon’s. Abby was sorry for the cruel words she had said, the words that she knew would hurt. She was truly sorry for it, but Aegon had no right in how he continued to behave toward her in his own river of whatever self-loathing he was trying to drown himself in.

He didn’t get to use her to weigh himself down into the depths.

Abby only made it a few steps before Aegon’s large hand wrapped around her bicep in a firm grip. Her hand came up immediately, nails digging into the skin, and there was an almost pleased look on his face, a darkening of his gaze, that sent a tumult of conflicted feelings in her. Anger at not being taken seriously. Curiosity at why he seemed to find it pleasurable. The desire to scratch and claw at him until she drew red.

Her spine went rigid, a swooping sensation rolling through her belly. A rush of anger was expected, the strange thrill that accompanied it was less so. "Let go of me, Aegon."

He leaned in closer, his lip curling and his white teeth flashing in his snarl. His eyes, however, lilac and blood red from his previous night, seemed rounded, panicked somehow. "No." Aegon's gaze fell to her mouth, and she swallowed, feeling heat along her throat. She couldn't figure out if it was from anger or embarrassment and it only served to incense her further.

They were so close and she wanted to kiss him, to feel the slide of his warm mouth against hers, taste the lingering watered wine on his tongue. She wanted to bite him until he bled, to taste the crimson that would well up, and let it make her dizzy and forget everything else.

She would have kicked him if the angle was right. She would have scratched at his wrist had they been alone. If the thought hadn’t been so abhorrent, she might have slapped him.

Try as the queen might to make it true, Abby was not Alicent Hightower.

“Aegon,” she whispered, steely eyed and spine stiff. “You’re hurting me.”

His grip immediately released as if he’d been scalded, and she was sent stumbling back from the abruptness of it. Aegon’s mouth opened, shut, clenched with whatever conflict was going through him.

“Touch me like that in anger again, and it won’t be the ghost of my dearest brother you’d need to fear. I’ll geld you myself.” Wylla would gladly help her and hide the evidence. The murderous eyes that she held for the prince since the feast would have incinerated Aegon on the spot if Wylla had the power.

“Since when have you become so violent? Was your sweet and forgiving nature also a deception? A game to make me-“

Aegon fell silent, soft cheeks flushed and the silence was full and rolling with the years between them, all of the weight that brought them here. Abby was flushed with hurt that had her snapping and spitting in a way she never knew she was capable of, in a way she’d never allowed herself to feel, let alone show.

It felt good. It felt good in the way sobbing in Helaena and Wylla’s arms had done. She felt… brave.

Her mother had shown it. Celeste Strong had been more than the smiling wraith of her childhood memories, even though she had never witnessed it.

‘My mother was a lioness of Castamere. Do I not share that legacy as well?’

“I play no games, Prince Aegon.” He was not my prince right now. Her prince, her Aegon, would not treat her so. Yet, here Aegon was, doing exactly that. Behavior she had seen extended towards others had finally reached her. She thought of the list of qualities the queen found wanting in her son and her own immediate defense and her vow that she was not blind.

She had hurt Aegon, it was true, but he’d taken it and run, wielding his pain like a warhammer. It was a wound he had not expected from her. Had she truly expected him to act differently? Had she expected him to look past her words to see the pain she was in? ‘Yes,’ she thought, and he should have, but why had she chosen to hurt him instead of asking for comfort? Why had she not confided in him?

‘Am I truly so stupid and naive? Is the Queen right?’

In turn, he had expected perfection. Pretty and pliant. To comfort him as she always had. Her head ached with the confusion of all the questions.

“Did you know he got a child on one of my maids? I gave her moon tea and gold and sent her away.”

“Do not take my sweet and forgiving nature for weakness,” she hissed. Abby was the type to cry when angry, but her eyes remained mercifully clear. “I care for you, but you do not get to treat me as a toy - as a plaything that only exists for you.”

That had Aegon stepping forward and back into her space. “You’re mine, Abrogail Strong. You’ve always been mine.” The words stole the breath from her and her mouth went dry at his vow, his lilac gaze black and bloodshot, edged with a possessive desperation that was unlike what she’d seen from him before. So confusing were the warring sensations inside of her as he spoke them into being.

Abby wanted to bite him when he said those words, and the strength of the feeling frightened her with its intensity. She wanted to bite him and leave an imprint of her mouth on his skin. Where, she did not know. She wanted to tear into him with an unrecognizable drive that confused her.

Abby swallowed as the tip of his tongue touched his lower lip in that way of his.

“Let me be the only one you touch this way.”

She thought of his face wet against the crook of her neck, her fingers stroking through his hair, the curls she’d cut gathered at their feet. She thought of the way she rested her head on his shoulder, and he promised she would never go away, that he would keep her safe as she lit mourning candles in the wake of the fire.

“You’re mine, Abby,” he repeated into existence. “You’re my betrothed and you fawn all over that Vance welp one moment, and tell me you care for me the next. What is it to be?”

“I was being polite!” She only half-lied.

“You did it to make me jealous!”

“And? How do you think I feel when you show up this morning smelling like a brothel and still half drunk? How do you think I feel seeing you dance with Lady Cassandra, let alone ogling her so openly.” How desperately she wanted him to look at her that way. “If I’m so unequivocally yours, then why does it only go one way, you selfish, cruel man? Do I not get to call you mine?” Aegon drew back at her words and Abby did as well, gulping in air that didn’t taste of him. Enough distance created between them that Abby could not feel him. “I wish I could say how sorry I am to disabuse you and your mother of this notion that I am the Maiden. I’m not, and…” Her voice halted, and the flushed heat beneath her skin was suffocating and prickling, robbing her of words.

“And I’m full of vice as they come,” Aegon said as if finishing her sentence, his voice hollow and glimmering eyes that did not meet hers. “No amount of tender touch and soft words can change that.”

A fleeting twist of guilt coiled through her at his tone and she thought of Alicent Hightower’s insistence that she was meant to cure whatever was broken and wrong with Aegon. She was not the Maiden or some holy miracle, but neither was Aegon broken and irredeemable either.

“I suppose that makes us…that makes us ourselves then.” It felt strange to say, it felt strange to feel those words and to even hear them.

“Yes,” Aegon rasped. Abby’s eyes were hot, and Aegon’s were wet.

The moment stretched between them, a gulf rushing with water, soaking into her skirts and threatening to drag her under.

Abby took a deep breath as if preparing to dive into the Blackwater itself, to dive into the rush between them. Instead she turned, gathering her skirts in hand and walked away, forcing herself to look ahead to shore when half of her wanted to be pulled under with him.

The clash of steel on steel echoed through the training yard and Aegon spun his left sword, the right one connected and sliding against Harrion Karstark’s greatsword. Sweat dripped into Aegon’s eyes and Harrion himself was flush with exertion. Not even the gathered crowd around them nor the gaggle of ladies above could draw his attention.

They didn’t matter. He already had thrown up his breakfast after the first bout so whatever humiliation left for him was negligible.

Aegon sprang back and brought his dual swords down and across himself, trapping Harrion’s blade between them. He met the man’s eyes, and the northerner gave him a twitch of a grin and an approving nod of his head.

“Watch me. Ignore the distractions,” Harrion had said when Aegon stormed into the training yard half an hour earlier. Aemond was the one who took his anger out on the squires and Cole and whomever else unfortunate enough to get in his way. Normally, Aegon would have fled to Sunfyre and the sky above, but it would take too long to reach him and the space between Aegon’s ribs craved blood.

Preferably his own.

If he flew in that moment, Aegon could not promise he’d come back. Whatever that would look like.

Aegon wondered if Harrion’s blade had some strange northern magic that could carve the rot out of him that flame could not burn and cleanse away. Mayhaps he was more Hightower than Targaryen. Mayhaps that’s why he was like this.

Harrion’s swing knocked Aegon’s right blade from his grip, sending it skittering across the gravel. The larger man was on him, pressing Aegon back with great swings and the force of blocking him vibrated painfully in his arms.

"You are a million miles away, Your Grace," Harrion said, still circling him, his blue eyes discerning far more than Aegon appreciated. "That's how you end up with a blade through your shoulder. Trust me, I know."

Aegon ignored him, grinding his teeth.

"You could tell me what was bothering you, perhaps. At the least it would provide me with more of a challenge that… whatever it is we're doing now."

“We’re not talking about her,” Aegon grunted, swinging his blade out and moving around the larger man. “It. We’re not talking about it.”

“I’ve heard say that a good swordsman doesn’t let himself get distracted by such things, so that answers that.” Harrion’s mouth twitched up as he winked and Aegon felt a surge rumble through him. With a shout, he darted behind the training dummy and kicked it violently towards Harrion, buying himself enough time to go for his thrown blade.

“Begone!” Aegon commanded with thunderous force in his voice at the crowd, sending several bystanders stumbling back in surprise.

Aegon’s blades met Harrion’s with his teeth gritted and forced him back.

“Well, now we’re getting somewhere. Red hair? One breath away from dissolving into tears.” Aegon swore he saw judgement on Karstark’s face but the elder man simply rotated his greatsword in hand. “Don’t tell me you stepped on her feet while you were making a spectacle of yourselves.” He didn’t see the shoulder check coming and Aegon went stumbling back, nearly falling on his ass had he not come up against the weapons rack. “See? Better than a blade in the shoulder.”

A growl tore from Aegon’s throat and he swung his blades, causing the taller man to jump back out of the way. “You stick a blade in my shoulder, it’s treason.”

Harrion looked unsuitably unimpressed. If anything, Aegon swore he saw another twitch on his mouth and the greatsword was coming at him again, sliding along his left arm and leaving a white hot sting that had Aegon hissing and looking at the cut of his padded tunic and the bright slash of red along his bicep.

"Well," Harrion said with a shake of his head. "Shame. So what happened?"

Aegon looked incredulously from his arm to Harrion’s face, a weird sense of satisfaction emanating from the sharp sting of the slice on his arm. It lacked the brute force of a punch to the face and with the pain, he felt an unknotting sensation in his chest.

“I... don’t fucking know,” he said with feeling, swinging his left blade to meet Harrion’s with a clang. “I don’t fucking know what she wants from me when she never asked for anything different!”

The blades slid against each other, coming back again and again with the bright sound of steel clanging and Aegon wondered if Valyrian steel would sing differently in his hands.

“The thing about women is that they expect you to pay attention,” Harrion said, turning so Aegon’s swing missed and he turned the greatsword over his head and brought it down again in a move reminiscent of Harwin Strong and came down and would’ve taken Aegon’s head off had he not managed to black it in time. “You’re not great at that, are you?”

“How in the seven hells am I supposed to pay attention when she doesn’t fucking say anything!” he yelled, frustration tearing out of him with the force of dragon flame. “She’s always accepted me, she’s always been there for me, stood by me, she knows who the fuck I am and never said or asked for me to change. And now she thinks that since we’re going to be married I’m not what? Going to flirt and fuck and drink and be whatever…” He was choking on spit and something tangy and metallic in his mouth. “Whatever the fuck is wrong with me.”

There was a slap of metal against his chest and he looked down at the flat of Harrion’s blade pressed against his chest. “You missed,” Aegon said, tilting his chin up with a long look. “Neck’s here.”

“You’re pathetic, Your Grace.”

Aegon blinked. “What did you just say?”

Harrion lowered his blade and drew it along the end of his tunic, not looking at him, completely unbothered that Aegon could have lost his temper again and swung his blades at him. “I said, you’re pathetic. What kind of man are you, what kind of prince of the realm are you? You’re to be married and become lord to one of the largest keeps in the realm, and yet here you stand, a soft bellied boy, fretting over the idea that the lady you’re engaged to might not like your behavior.”

There was a rushing in his ears and Aegon opened his mouth to retort, to snap that Harrion Karstark, heir to a little backwater hovel, couldn’t speak to him like that, just as his sister didn’t have a right to do so.

“She’s been twisting herself in nervous circles preparing for this outing,” Wylla had hissed at him, the most courteous smile on her face but her fists clenched at her sides like she was about to fight him herself. He had stood beside his horse, resolutely ignoring the confused hurt on Abby’s face when he’d directed her to the carriage before they headed out into the city to attend the guild festival all those weeks ago. “So you are going to stop being a petulant, mercurial child and act like you are the luckiest man in the seven kingdoms to have her waiting for you.”

“She said we were lucky to like one another,” he finally rasped out, his palms sweaty around the grips of his blades. “That it’s more than what most can say.”

“She’s right, you are lucky, and revelations abound for you, Your Grace, because you’re so lucky and you do like one another, she expects you to afford, oh, I don’t know what it’s called, mayhaps respect?” Harrion’s gaze had lost the amusement and was now flat and cold as ice. “That girl is a prize that you’ve been given. I’ve seen that in the short time I’ve known her. And it seems you can’t grow up and be the man that she deserves. How would you feel if she went and fucked one of those other lords fawning over her, and then said ‘well, you didn’t ask me to change’.”

It must have been the hangover. Aegon was sure of it. The longer he stared at Harrion Karstark, the more he swore he saw Harwin Strong standing there, speaking conversationally to him after catching Aegon hacking one of the training dummies to death with his new blade.

He blinked again and it was Harrion once more, far closer now than he’d been on the other side of the training ring. Aegon hated how much taller the man was, how small he felt beneath his cold, stormy eyed gaze. Harrion gripped his shoulder in his large hand and Aegon swayed beneath it.

This would normally have been the point where his mother would snarl at him, “Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”, but Harrion? He said nothing except look down at him, waiting.

"I'm marrying a woman I've never laid eyes on when I head back north. Never met her, never heard the sound of her voice. I've written to her, tried to learn what I could of her through her own words. You though? You should probably pull your head out of the dragon shit and stop treating your situation as I would wager you treat everything else." He paused, then added, “Your Grace.”

“It’s growing late, my prince,” Erryk said with a disapproving look that Aegon didn’t give two shits about as he rubbed his hand over Kostōba’s golden cream neck, scratching his fingers along the line of his mane. “Are you sure you want to go out now?”

“Cargyll, when have I ever decided against going out this late?” It wasn’t as if it was late. The sun was a molten line on the horizon, the stars beginning to show along the eastern horizon. Night was better for him.

How ironic that he rode the sun. How ironic that the one he…

His thoughts were interrupted by another horse whickering, a dappled grey stallion with a braided white mane. Helaena sat astride him, her silver hair braided back, her riding leathers blue scaled leather with silver edging. Arryk Cargyll was coming up on his own horse, his Kingsguard armor gleaming in the evening light.

“Well, come on then. Aren’t we going flying?” she asked, eyes languid, voice expectant.

“No!” Aegon started, glaring at Arryk who was allowing his sister to think she could just ride out. “It’s not safe for you out there this late.”

“Oh, but it is for you when you avoid Ser Erryk every night?”

“Ser Erryk doesn’t make for good fucking company,” Aegon snapped. “Go back inside, Helaena.”

Helaena looked at him and then softly commanded her stallion to head out towards the gate. Kostōba snorted and whinnied softly, pawing at the ground and bumped his head into Aegon’s shoulder. He pet the horse’s neck gently, murmuring soft words to him before he gripped the saddle and hauled himself up. “Fine. Come on. If you’re lucky, you won’t even have to wait for us.”

They just wouldn’t come back. Maybe he’d talk Helaena into it.

The ride through the city was mercifully uneventful. Aegon kept beside his sister, glaring down at any lurking in the shadows that might come towards her. Helaena didn’t seem bothered by it, smiling at those who waved, their cries of ‘Princess Helaena!’ endearing in a way Aegon would not admit he was jealous of. He could see the tension in her shoulders at being noticed, and the way they relaxed once they went through the outer gates of the dragon pit.

Sunfyre was already out, chirping and chortling in his concerned way where he kept dipping his head trying to get closer, ruffled and annoyed at the dragonkeepers who kept him from rushing forward.

Aegon and Sunfyre set off first, and he looked down below as Dreamfyre’s great, blue bulk was led out into the yard. She was at least twice the size of Sunfyre, all pale blue scales and silver markings that twinkled like starlight. They circled languidly, and Aegon felt the chill of the air caress his cheeks and leech the heat from him, and for a moment, he swore he could feel Abby’s fingers cool across his brow, asking him if he was alright.

To watch Dreamfyre launch herself into the sky was a sight to behold. She wasn’t whip fast the way Sunfyre was, she didn’t lumber like Vhaegar. She took off, smooth as silk, flowing through the air like a fish swam through the sea. Her wings were great things, pale blue membranes veined with more of the silver markings that covered her great form. Aegon would never admit it, but Dreamfyre might have been more beautiful than Sunfyre when she took off into the twilight gleam, melting into the streaks of the swiftly darkening sky.

Helaena’s laughter echoed across King’s Landing, louder and brighter, Aegon swore, than the bells of the city itself. There was no need to give command to Sunfyre. He looked towards the south and Sunfyre let out his low call and took off, racing ahead towards the looming dark of the Kingswood.

Riding with Sunfyre was like flying through the sky himself. He leaned over the horn of the saddle, gloved hands outreached to press against his neck and together they moved, one being and one thought. No command passed Aegon’s lips. He simply felt his desire to run, to fly and flee until they could outrun all that plagued him. Away from old River Lords, and the storms of the North embodied in wolves with blades and teeth, away from the brokenhearted look in a pair of eyes as blue and endless as the ocean.

It wasn’t long before the pair of them circled the cliffs at the edge of the Kingswood, Sunfyre fluttering down as light as a leaf on a pond. Dreamfyre landed not long after and Helaena waited for him, perched like a little blue beetle on the rocks and looking out over the great gorge.

His sister watched him in her inscrutable way and Aegon stood some distance from her, unsure if he wanted to go to her, for he didn’t know what it was he wanted. Aegon’s gaze drifted over his shoulder to the cliff edge, the breeze tugging his hair across his face. He could simply just-

“Aegon.”

Lilac eyes snapped back to look at his sister and he kicked his foot against the ground, pawing at it like his horse before he came over and settled beside her. She said nothing, only reached over to take his left hand in both of hers to hold in her lap. His shoulders sagged beneath the leather of his jacket, his fingers twitching in hers.

“Sunfyre would be upset if you did,” she said and Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Sunfyre would get over it.”

“You’ve always been a terrible liar.” Helaena’s voice remained soft and calm and he scoffed lightly, a half hearted smirk playing on his face.

“I’m quite a good liar. You should play me at cards.” Levity amidst the depths that he was sinking in. Water and dirt or fire and blood flooding his mouth and ears and weeds and rock weighing him down.

The sounds of the forest were alive around them, the gentle song of crickets, the distant rustles of night time animals coming out of their daytime slumber. Aegon fiddled with a stone and chucked it out over the cliff edge and imagined it spinning out into the night sky to knock one of the lofty stars from their perch. Would Abby want him if he brought her back a fallen star?

“I told Aemond I wasn’t going to marry him.”

Aegon raised his eyebrows at her. “Huh.” An elegant response but there was a headache pulsing behind his eyes and he was at a loss for anything substantial. “How long has… how long have you been sitting on that revelation?”

A soft shrug, her fingers sliding across the rock towards a little lizard that had previously been sunning itself. “Some days I thought I could. Some days I wanted to marry him. I liked the way he looked at me, kissed me, desired me. Other times, I missed him. Who he was before Vhaegar.”

“Who he was before those bastards attacked him,” Aegon snarled, tossing another rock over the edge of the cliff. Helaena’s hand still held his and she squeezed his fingers, a gesture he instinctively returned back. His stomach lurched with nausea thinking about Ser Harrold carrying his bleeding, screaming brother into the throne room of Driftmark. They held his mouth open to pour milk of the poppy down his gullet to ease the pain.

‘Where was Ser Criston’, Aegon remembered thinking. Where had the guards been to find that Aemond had never gone to bed? Where had the guards been to see a loud, squabbling bunch of children on their way to what? Dragons couldn’t be stolen. Jace and Baela knew that, should have known that.

“We should have been better,” Helaena whispered and Aegon looked over at her. She was watching the little lizard crawl over her hand, the thing curling beneath her sleeve with the little head poking out as it sought out her warmth. “You should not have teased him so.”

A hot flush of shame and anger washed through him and he jerked his hand out of his sister’s hold. “Īlon kydȳbagon. Beqes? Iā valonqār īlvrot idīnnoso pirtrirzi zoklākore?.” Let us measure. A pig? Or falsely enticing our brother with marriage?

“Se qringaomnot dijāvē qrimbughere, marta issa?” Helaena countered. And is that the same as drowning in your vice and lust? The words clawed at the meat of him. Her eyes bore into him as hot as dragonfire and Aegon pushed away from the rocks and scuffed his feet in the dirt, putting distance between them so she could not see him so easily, perceiving his rot and ruin.

“She didn’t even care, so why should he?” Aegon snarled. Rhaenyra hadn’t cared about her brother, her blood, just an insult as if the whole fight had been Aemond calling them bastards, not the whole of them attacking Aemond and he needing to defend himself.

“Would you like to go riding?” his sister asked him softly, a gentle smile on her face. Her belly was starting to round with her own child, and mother was in her room, pacing with her own child to come. Aegon clutched his dragon to his chest, looking up at her uncertainty. He wasn’t meant to be alone with Rhaera, his little mouth struggling with the syllables of her name. The idea of riding up in the sky, on a real dragon rather than a toy in the nursery, excited him and he nodded, reaching and taking her hand and giggling with surprise when she scooped him up, the way mama said he was too big for.

“She didn’t even care,” Aegon repeated, his harsh voice a rasp in his throat, betrayal and hurt that he hadn’t felt in some time coursing through him.

The cliff edge was so utterly appealing.

“Dragons of flesh weave dragons of thread,” Helaena’s voice drifted softly on the evening breeze. He chewed on his lip and looked over his shoulder back at her. She was fixated on the lizard along her hand and lowered it, allowing the little thing to flee into the cracks among the rocks.

Aegon pushed the hair out of his eyes and turned then. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” It was simple, matter of fact, and she palmed her knees, the leather creaking with the movement. “He’s not, but…” Aegon was quiet, ignoring the call of the void, and focused on the way his sister’s hair gleamed in the fading light. In another life, they would be married, in the way their Valyrian blood demanded and every day, Aegon was grateful that they had both escaped the fate. He loved his sister, but couldn’t imagine doing what would have been required. He couldn’t imagine touching her, instinctively recoiling at the thought. Helaena was beautiful, Aegon would readily agree on that. Buxom and beautiful, with eyes that could stare into your soul and a smile that was warm as firelight.

“But?” he asked when her gaze grew distant. She shook her head.

“I think he felt as confused as I did. But you know Aemond. Once he has his mind set on something…” She tucked a loose strand of hair back from her face and drew her legs up to rest her feet against the rocks. “I told Mother. I suppose this means Aemond will go to Storm’s End.”

The sight of Cassandra’s mouth on his cock flashed across his vision and he thought of what that woman would do if she got her hands on his brother. Aemond was intimidating, Aegon was loath to admit it unless it was to his advantage, and women either were drawn to it or repelled. But he was still a green boy, inexperienced despite Aegon’s attempts to get him with the best the Street of Silk had to offer. Cassandra could very well tear him apart if Aemond wasn’t careful.

“Well he can have his pick out of the four, although I think that little hyperactive deer would be the best choice.” It would be several years until the child would be old enough to wed, which might appeal to his disinterested brother.

“Floris is going to fell a stag next Storm Festival. She shot a bullseye and everything.” Helaena’s tone was fond and lighter than it had been before. “I’ve claimed her, by the way. You’ll be taking Cassandra Baratheon with you. Hope her tits fit in the carriage.”

Aegon snorted, laughter bursting from him in surprise. “My my, hāedus, are you jealous of her fantastic tits. If you need reassurance, you do have some of the better breasts I’ve only passively looked over.”

“You called her tits fantastic, and mine ‘some of the better’,” Helaena said airily, and Aegon let out another snort of laughter. “It’s fine. I’ll forgive you. You have been a bit messier than usual. Ever since the feast.”

His laughter trailed off, and while his sister had elevated his mood, it wasn’t enough to erase away the tangle of vines that had woven their way through his ribs, constricting like the venomous snakes of Yi Ti. “Mmmm, have you been sending your many creatures to spy on me?”

“No,” Helaena replied. “But I spent the whole night comforting a hysterical Abrogail Strong in my chambers afterwards. I’ve never seen her cry so hard, let alone cry in general. Dear girl doesn’t like to show that side of herself.” She shook her head. “Not to mention you looked like Mother had forbidden you from riding Sunfyre before the feast started and I heard Ser Erryk talking about pulling you from a brothel and dragging you back to the keep slung over the ass of his horse.

“Well, when you put it that way.” Aegon shook his head and kicked at a stone, sending it dancing across the ground. He felt sick to his stomach at the idea that he’d sent Abby into hysterics after the feast, and there was little convincing himself that it was everything else that had upset her, when she had upset him so much.

When it was more than just her that had upset him, and he’d taken it out on her.

“She wants to geld you. Well, no. She said were her dearest departed brother still alive, he’d gift her your balls on a platter.”

“Oh, no, she threatened to geld me herself this morning.” Helaena giggled and Aegon flushed. “I showed up to break our fast hungover and smelling of perfume. That was embarrassing for her. Apparently.”

“I would be embarrassed if my betrothed showed up to eat with kin smelling of other women.” Helaena’s voice was in that easy way of hers, no judgement and matter of fact. When he met her eyes though, they flashed in the dark, a fire burning in her lavender gaze. “Aegon, you’re an idiot.”

“Thank you,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “You’ll be pleased to know this isn’t the first time today I’ve been called as such. Lucky for me, you don’t have a sword.”

“Yes, but I do have a dragon.” As if on cue, Dreamfyre rumbled from where she was sitting nearby, an antler hooked on her mouth from her meal she’d just finished. Aegon made a face. “Harrion Karstark is handsome though. I wouldn’t mind it if-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Aegon cut in sharply. “Besides, he’s rather devout to the bride he hasn’t met yet. Riverlands girl.”

“Right. Riverlands girl. Not dissimilar to your own, I’d wager.”

“And what, pray tell, are you getting at? If you wish to lecture me, then do so.”

“I don’t need to lecture you, Aegon, but I do have a question.” Aegon gave her a blank look, stealing himself for whatever it was that Helaena was about to throw in his face. “Why do you think Abby hasn’t come asking to have the betrothal broken after all of this?” He opened his mouth, and shut it with a click, a shake of his head. “You’re an idiot,” she repeated.

“She’s nice! She does whatever Mother fucking tells her to do. She’s such a proud little member of her household, doing everything she can to fucking be her.” Helaena made a little face in response, but didn’t argue and Aegon tugged at the clasps on his riding jacket, shrugging out of the leather and letting the breeze cool his too hot skin.

“Do you like it when she’s like Mother?” Helaena asked curiously and Aegon flushed.

“I like it when she’s bossy. Not my fault it sounds like-” He snapped his mouth shut as his sister let out an indelicate snort, snickering from her spot. “Bratsios,” he swore at her, which only caused Helaena to let out another snort. “Fine! Fine I’m a fucking idiot. Happy?” He threw out his arms and gave a little spin for dramatic effect. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, She went into this whole thing about why the tables only go one way, and that at the end of the day, we’re just ourselves and she walked away and I think she wants to break this whole thing off-”

“She’s not,” Helaena cut in with another soft chuckle and leaned back against the rocks, tilting her head back to gaze up at the sky. “And she may sound like Mother sometimes, but she’s not. She’s not Mother.”

“She’s not the Maiden,” Aegon finished, the memory of Abby’s eyes, large and wet and flashing with anger and hurt seared on the back of his own eyelids. “She’s not… She’s just… Abby.” He felt his shoulders droop, the tension that had knotted through him for the past few days released, albeit slowly. “She’s just Abby with her needlework and her cat and her drawings and all her books.” He felt his mouth twitch. “She had a whole presentation this morning, did she tell you? I’ve never seen her handle so many scrolls, going in about all the changes she wants to make to Harrenhal for the people and she had pages of sums and she was talking about fucking trade agreements with some house and her whole face was lit up and she was talking too fast and I swear I thought she’d faint from forgetting to breathe.”

He looked down at his hands and from beneath the edge of his cuff, three half healed lines from where she’d scratched him bloody were still visible. Aegon instinctively brought his wrist to his mouth, sucking on the healing skin that still held the faint tang of copper. “When she lets herself, she’s full of fire and passion. She’s biting and vicious.” His hunītsos so sweet and soft but teeth that would bite when a hand threatened. “What did I do that made her so angry with me to begin with?”

His sister shrugged. “Maybe you should ask her before it’s too late.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was sharp and focused on Helaena’s impenetrable gaze. “Helaena.”

“She was rather pleased on a walk with Ser Edmund the other day in the garden,” his sister finally said. “She’d left the picnic and ran into him. They were quite close together when Floris and I found them, all blushing and shy.”

Aegon’s stomach plummeted and his hands tingled, cold dread and hot fury rushing through him. Whatever look was on his face had his sister jumping up and closing the distance to grab at his arms.

Sunfyre growled nearby, Dreamfyre answering with a short, sharp huff of annoyance.

“You’re an idiot, but do you understand why she hasn’t gone to break this off yet? Because she cares for you. You’ve been pulling her away from the rest of us for years. Mittys iksā, Aegon.” You are a fool. He tried to jerk his arms from her, but Helaena held fast to him. “You are, and I resent you for it often. Aemond resents you for it, hoarding her as you try to do, but what you don’t see, lēkȳs, is that she allows you to do it. Had she not wanted you in return, Abby would not allow you to get away with it as you do.”

Had she not wanted him in return.

‘I never wanted you.’

Abby had never spoken those words though. Even the memory of it in his head didn’t sound like her. It sounded suspiciously like his mother, like his excuse for a sire, even Cole but… but never Abby.

In his grandfather’s office, Abby’s hand had been trembling in her lap before she reached for him, the smile tremulous and panic in her eyes. Not fear. Not disgust. She had reached for him, and he had reached for her when the world felt like it was breaking apart beneath their feet.

“And yet she flirts with that pompous cunt,” Aegon snarled and Sunfyre responded in kind with another growl that had Dreamfyre reaching out a clawed foot to push at his snout.

“So what? You flirt all the time and don’t you dare say it’s any different. The only difference that lays between you two is that you often go to paw and prod and fuck those you flirt with. She doesn’t.”

The idea of Abby doing more with one of her rare flirtations had the coil of anger firing inside of him once more as he thought of what he’d done with Cassandra Baratheon, with Marla Lefford after the feast.

“And? How do you think I feel when you show up this morning smelling like a brothel and still half drunk? How do you think I feel seeing you dance with Lady Cassandra, let alone ogling her so openly? If I’m so unequivocally yours, then why does it only go one way, you selfish, cruel boy?”

Protests died on Aegon’s tongue and he staggered back, feeling sick and dizzy, feeling angry and brokenhearted. Confused and uncertain, and yet entirely certain all at the same time. Helaena’s hands drifted back but she didn’t move away from him, didn’t tear at him, and certainly didn’t take advantage of the moment to push him over the cliff’s edge.

“I tried to be good for her,” he rasped.

“Did you truly? Or were you simply doing what it is you always do, and thinking it would work this time?” Helaena asked.

Aegon gave her a wary look. “When did you become such an insightful one, heltusītsos?” It had been years since he’d called her little beetle, the nickname coined by Aemond. Helaena startled at the words, her head ducking down and averting her gaze.

“You all try to baby me and I’m sick of it,” Helaena muttered, pushing him without any real force behind it. The wind kicked up, whipping at her moonlit braid and tugging tendrils of hair across her round features. Sometimes it was like staring into a mirror, the pair of them with the same round features and their mother’s large eyes. “So I’m endeavoring to speak my mind and tell you how I feel and when I think you’re all being foolish, which is quite often, you know.”

Jealousy and anger continued to roil in the pit of Aegon’s gut in the silence that followed his sister’s declaration. The idea of another man’s hands on Abby, his fingers in her hair, on her skin, of someone else making her laugh - that was Aegon’s laughter that was stolen. He always did what he could to make her laugh, to draw the bright sound from her so she would forget how sad she was, how lonely. How she giggled in his arms when she kissed him, when he kissed her. Her shrieks of laughter when he’d defend her in children’s games, their hands grabbing each other as he tugged her to the safety of his camp away from Jacaerys and Lucerys in the gardens and in the woods.

The soft sound of pain when he grabbed her cut through the memory. ‘Had she learned to quiet them as he had?’

Her eyes, so endlessly blue as the ocean itself, shining with tears that he’d caused.

Aegon just wanted to make her laugh and smile, instead of shutting down as she had after her father and Harwin’s death, when it looked as if she would simply blow away as dust. The memory of a small girl, eyes perpetually red and cheeks chapped with endless, silent tears looking so small in the sept before the Stranger. The way she’d looked at him when he approached and how her hands had fisted into his sleeves and she sobbed into his shoulder.

He remembered telling her the story of Ser Harwin slipping in the mud when they were in the stables and swearing Aegon to silence with a laugh. He told her of the time Mother had lost her wits at a giant Dornish spider getting loose in the cloisters and how Lord Lyonel had come, speaking calmly and rattling off all these interesting facts about it with a box in hand and how Mother lost her mind to just kill the cursed thing!

‘I could never hate you, Aegon.’

Did she truly mean it?

“What if I’ve just fucked it up beyond repair? What if we’re just doomed to be fucking miserable?” Aegon’s voice was small, his eyes wide and frightened in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he was young and the first time the Tower had kicked him and nearly crashed his head in, lashing him with such cruel words that had Aegon stunned and spinning.

Helaena shrugged. “What if you haven’t?”

Hope unfurled, a frightened animal in his chest that wasn’t sure if it was safe, long boxed away and his breath hitched, an uncertain smile crossing his face.

Jace leaned against the carved stone of the shallow balcony outside his room. The sun had set and the moon was rising, the deepening blue of the sky beginning to glitter and twinkle with so many stars.

His thumb rubbed over the ridges of the long dead little sea creature embedded in the stone he held, lavender eyes hooded in thought. His room felt bare this night, his belongings loaded into trunks and taken down to the ship earlier in the day. Shelves that had been bursting with books and maps, with trinkets and baubles now gone and packed carefully away. Jace suspected that Luke had made off with some of the more coveted items he’d been sneaking off with, like the history of the Vale of Arryn that he’d been particularly interested in as of late.

A knock on the door drew his attention and for a moment, Jace thought about not answering, pretending he was tucked in bed and fast asleep. The heavy door creaked open and he let out an exasperated sigh. “Mother-”

“I know, you’d like me to wait before barging in,” his mother said. She was dressed for an evening of relaxation - a loose, scarlet robe with woven and knotted clasps over her nightgown, her hair braided back from her face and slung over her shoulder. The Princess rubbed her hands together and her gaze flitted over the bare spots across the room. “Well, you are six and ten. The gods know there are things I do not want to walk in on.”

Jace felt his cheeks flush, a sputter escaping him. “Muñus-” He would not think about the last time that had nearly happened, rolling off the side of the bed and being convinced he’d broken… things.

“I know.” She looked beautiful in the candlelight, her pale skin flushed golden in the flickering candlelight around his room. “Indulge me, zēapos. I only have a few hours left to tease you.” She stood beside him, gazing out at the Narrow Sea. Her warm hand reached up to stroke through his hair, dark brown curls wild and tugging free along his face and shoulders. Jace was struck by how strange it was to finally be taller than his mother, who loomed large over him for as long as he could remember, a beacon of home and warmth. He slung his arm around her shoulder and ducked his head at the kiss she pressed against his cheek.

The Valyrian flowed from him as it did his mother. Since he began his lessons in earnest, most conversations took place in their ancestral tongue. “I promise to keep Baela out of trouble.” His sister was coming with him, having raged for near a fortnight at being sent away when she had only just returned from Driftmark with Rhaena. Daemon had raged back, their voices echoing off the stone of the citadel whenever they were in the same room until Luke had declared he was moving into the caves with Arrax until they stopped.

His mother chuckled. “Oh, neither of us will hold you to that. Baela is like her parents, clever and wily. But you two will have one another to rely on, as well as your grandfather. You are second in line for the throne, ñuhus trēsys.” Jace turned and she took his face in her hands, tilting his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “No matter what anyone says, or insinuates, you are my son, my heir. You will sit the Iron Throne, you are not just a prince of the realm, se dārilaros iksan.”

“Nyke dārilaros iksan,” he repeated.

I am the prince.

Her smile was gentle and soft, her eyes crinkling at the corners and she pushed up on her toes to press a kiss between his brows. “I’m so proud of you for doing this. Do not let them forget that you are a dragon. You ride Vermax, and only a dragon can bond with a dragon.”

“I miss him,” Jace whispered before he could draw the words back. His mother’s hands trembled against his face. As he knew she would, she drew back and her hands dropped to his shoulders, smoothing his loose shirt.

“Laenor was a good man and he would be proud of you.” There was honesty in her words, but Jace could not say that Laenor wasn’t who he had meant. It had been another man, who had been unwavering by his mother’s side, who had been there for everything, that Jace referred to.

But that was treason and not even he could speak it.

Jace sucked it up and he gave a short nod. “He would.” His father had been good to him and his brothers, even if he wasn’t always there, often with Ser Qarl and other men at Driftmark. He was never cruel, always kind and encouraging upon his visits, even with the distance between them that never felt lonely, not with his mother there, not with Ser Harwin.

How lucky he was, to be loved as he was. To have so many who cared for him.

How frightening it was, to go to a place that had once been his home, and now full of those who loathed him.

Jace rubbed his thumb against the stone he held and he watched his mother’s hand join his. “What’s this?”

“I found it a few days ago, when Vermax and I went to the other side of the island.” The curled seashell had long turned to rock, broken in half over time so the inside ridges were visible. “Don’t know what it is. It just…” Another shrug. “Called to me, I suppose.”

“It must mean good fortune on your journey, then,” his mother said and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Now, my brooding boy, get some rest. You have a long journey ahead of you, and your men will be looking to you to not be half asleep slumped over a pile of rope.”

Right. He needed to be alert and present. He needed to be seen, he needed to participate, and work side by side with the sailors on their journey. Prove himself to be one of them. Prove himself more than the rumors that chased them from King’s Landing. Rumors that flashed bright as dragonfire in his step-grandmother’s gaze in the flickering great hall of Driftmark.

[Chapter Twelve]

#fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fic #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen x oc #hotd #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #house strong #aegon x abby #my fics

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Edition: MORE Fics That Fit My Niche “Dad!Mulder” Likes

You know I had to do it. I've been waiting almost a week to do this. So we're doing this, Round Two:

Authors Listed Below

@baronessblixen (Ao3)

Chiefchopstix

@contrivedcoincidences6/Spooky66/geektime66

@fragilevixenfic/fragilevixen

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls

IStanYouStan5676

@leiascully (Ao3) 

lsbianreinaa

@lokisgame​ (Ao3)

@mappingthexfiles/Apostrophic

@markwatneyandenesemble (Ao3)

@mchalowitz (Ao3)

@mldrgrl(Ao3)

@pickingoutchinapatterns (Ao3)

@poeticsandaliens

RoseThornhill

@sportsnightnut (Ao3)

sosoane1

TheAddict4Dramatics

@tinglingworld (Ao3)

xraelynn/Rachel Noble 

Mulder eating all disgusting food his kid(s) give him (all-time fave)--

William celebrates his third birthday, Scully her 40th, and Mulder his 43rd (the sum of the two loves of his life.) MUCH mess is made by father and son with little man’s birthday cake– The Law of Large Numbers - Apostrophic - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Will destroys his birthday cake; and his parents are more charmed and resigned than exasperated– This Is A Trainwreck - markwatneyandensemble - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder picking names for his child(ren)–

Post IVF failure Scully finds a list with baby names on them... they had been Mulder's guesses and favorites. Heart-wrenching and adorable--  Hate is always foolish and love is always wise — Name Calling (tumblr.com) Ao3 Name Calling - Baroness_Blixen - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder realizes Scully’s names suggestion– Vanessa– could be shortened to Nessie, and tries to nonchalantly approve. She figures him out– Poetics, Detectives and Aliens — crossedbeams: Mulder would 100% get behind… (tumblr.com)

Revival Mulder finds out Scully’s C-section is scheduled for Halloween. He then tries to sneak horror movie names into his baby girl’s name (who almost isn’t born on Spooky Day)– Spooky Mulder: The Revenge - RoseThornhill - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Revival Baby is born on Halloween and affectionately nicknamed Squatch by her doting father. He and Scully settle into domesticity (that involves Armani and White Onions for Thanksgiving)– I’m fairly happy. — Fic:  Little Bigfoot (tumblr.com) Ao3 Little Bigfoot - leiascully - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder is unrepentant that Scully’s clothes and furniture were blown up. Scully brings home baby name book, and they swap ideas– Names - Chiefchopstix - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Revival Mulder tries to distract a panicky Scully by naming their baby girl– and it turns out he’s panicking because he wanted to sing her happy birthday on her birthday– Names - lesbianreinaa - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Revival and sleep-deprived Mulder and Scully sort their new, wacky life out with an unnamed, week-old daughter (their takeout place helps them decide)– Fox Mulder’s Guide to Fatherhood* - xraelynn - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Scully lets Mulder name their daughter; but it's Jackson who starts the fox thematic nicknames in the house-- Maybe there's hope... - The Fox’s Den (tumblr.com)

Mulder and Scully already knew their daughter’s name, but he creates an adorable nickname all his own– a very flexible definition of okay — this version of normal Inspired by @megk18 ’s post… (tumblr.com) Ao3 this version of normal - sportsnightnut - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder names his little girl, growing her into baseball and adorable nicknames. As she grows, she changes; but the pride and love will always be there-- hey there aliens : endearments, part 5 (tumblr.com)

AU– In a better world Mulder and Scully realize they’re having another baby after a nosebleed. Scully lets her partner pick out her name– luminosity - skuls - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder THE involved Dad–

Mulder and Scully places bets on William’s patterns of behavior on Christmas– I do it all for you, Mulder — Not a Creature was Stirring (tumblr.com) Ao3 Not a Creature was Stirring - mldrgrl - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Mulder sharing his interests with his kid(s)–

Mulder and Will make a big deal about a baseball game for a team they don’t even care about while Scully catches up on paperwork– Baseball and Horror - Spooky66 - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] FFN Baseball and Horror, a x-files fanfic | FanFiction

Mulder bonds with his family over the big baseball game, air guitaring for Will and talking about his past with Scully (and later multitasking for her– and his– benefit)– Believing in Miracles (mulderscreek.com) Ao3 Believing in Miracles - spookyawards_archivist - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder sleeping with his children on the couch–

Scully comes home to find William conked out with popcorn and a movie. Mulder banters with her and puts their son to bed– Family Hour - mldrgrl - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Mulder dancing with his son–

Mulder realizes Will is nervous about his school dance, and snags Scully for a little shimmy demonstration. They both haven’t told him about her pregnancy, yet– How’s About a Dance - mldrgrl - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Mulder being adorable with his babies--

Mulder is honored to rock his son– Rocking Chair - sosoane1 - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Scully is puzzled Mulder isn’t raring to get back to work. He just wants to be a dad, especially after Will finally laughed– Tumblr’s Most Unwanted — msrpolaroidproject: William AU: Scully’s boys … Ao3 The Truth Of Us - Lokisgame - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] 

Mulder spies on his teen son and new gf– Still Fairly Young - Chapter 1 - Lokisgame - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Revival baby is LOUD. Mulder soothes his “Sweetface” with wild songs (to her and Scully’s amusement)– Alice is a Punk Rocker - RoseThornhill - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Post Revival Scully’s first conference away from her family goes without a hitch… well, mostly. Their daughter keeps Mulder on his toes– The Best Part of the Story - Chapter 1 - IStanYouStan5676 - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder does his crazy-toga-dad-dance to distract his teething daughter– Affirmations and Protestations: “Fluff and Angst” Prompts - Chapter 2 - fragilevixen - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

“Old man” Mulder and his daughter “investigate” the Easter Bunny while Scully picks up her family from the airport– The Easter Bunny was a Fox - fragilevixen - The X-Files

Mulder and Scully are surprised with a positive pregnancy test after having (mostly) raised their son successfully (great bonding and parenting moments, including Scully’s outrage at Will’s first gf)– I do it all for you, Mulder — Hi! Can I ask you to write a fic with this prompts… (tumblr.com) Ao3 They Grow Up So Fast - mldrgrl - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Mulder being comforted by his kids--

Scully is snappy all day, realizing too late it’s Samantha’s disappearance anniversary. Mulder is stable; but he drops tears at Scully’s heartfelt love and praise. Will covers him in kisses– I Was Dancing When I Was Twelve - TheAddict4Dramatics - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

And here’s a bonus: a collection of prompts that revolve around Mulder’s happier life with his family– it’s what we deserve - tinglingworld - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own]

Enjoy!

#txf #MORE Fics That Fit My Niche “Dad!Mulder” Likes #Mulder #xf fanfic #Collector's Edition #x-files #xfiles #fic #the x files #Chiefchopstix #fragilevixen #fragilevixenfic #ghostbustermelanieking #skuls #IStanYouStan5676 #leiascully #lsbianreinaa #lokisgame #mappingthexfiles #Apostrophic #markwatneyandensemble #mldrgrl #poeticsandaliens #RoseThornhill #sportsnightnut #sosane1 #tinglingworld #xraelynn #Rachel Noble #mchalowitz

[mr2swap]

Exchange therapy: Take a picture of "me"

-Hey son! Take a picture of me with Superman! The boys in the gym will love this! - my son slowly leaned towards the plastic statue that attracted so much attention from all the children, I took out the cell phone from a small backpack and with my small hands pointed towards the 30-year-old frontman me and took the picture then flexed his arms showing the messy hairy bush that was in his armpit even though now I'm in my son's skinny body and I can't smoke or drink I was having fun, unlike my son I was sober, maybe it wasn't a good idea to leave him my credit card, but he knows what he's doing, and I'm having an amazing time at the water park!

The relaxed and carefree life of a teenage boy had completely intoxicated me, there were times when I even forgot that the man with the hairy pecs in front of me was originally me, the body-swapping machine had done a great job with us, everyone our skills and memories were also exchanged, I barely remember what it was like to be an adult, I even forgot how to drive!

Before all this relationship with my son was screwed, we used to argue all the time and my son started to hide things from me like that my son was actually gay and that my ex-wife had a hot new boyfriend, after the divorce with his mother my son's grades dropped to the ground, he started fighting at school and behaving like a real bratty teenager. Still, of course, that was after-life swapping therapy.

The school psychologist recommended me to one of her colleagues with an experimental therapy sponsored by SwapCorp, it's pretty simple me and my son swapped our lives for a month to understand each other better, and after that… well we're still at it, supposed that would only last a week, the therapy was a complete success!

The first thing my son did when he got home changed his clothes and go straight to the gym to test his new strength and the first thing I did was lock myself in my new room to play video games, eat Doritos and discover the pleasure of jerking off a cock. Young and virgin with my soft little hands, when he started touching me I couldn't stop until I shoot my hot and stinky load on a dirty used t-shirt.

In just one week, my son had become a responsible adult, I didn't even miss a day of work when he was in my body. I don't think anyone touched him we exchanged our bodies, not even my ex-wife, it was a bit awkward when I heard her new boyfriend fuck while I was sleeping in the next room in my son's body.

But the strangest thing was when guided by my adolescent instincts I quietly sneaked into my wife's room and masturbated watching how my new "dad" fucked the witch who had made my life miserable for so many years, her new boyfriend was super hot! He had a thick cock and a hairy ass that took all the attention away from my wife's breasts that I missed so much.

With one hand I tried to silence the moans that came out of my mouth and with the other, I massaged my teenage cock until I ejaculated while she wore the pajamas my son had given her the year before for Christmas.

While reviewing the photos on the phone, my son ordered a couple of drinks and flirted with the bartender. I had been away from romance for too long, but my son had only been in my body for a couple of weeks, and now he's quite a casanova, maybe it's better if we stay like this for another time he seems to be enjoying his new authority and his new responsibilities as a single father.

This is supposed to be only temporary, but the doctor secretly confided in me that we could stay like this as long as we wanted we just need to both agree on this, it's not so bad being an ordinary teenager when you get used to having to masturbate 6 times a day with gay porn and getting a boner in sports class.

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories and see all my stories on my patreon and have access to the stories on my discord server.

#bodyswap #body swap #male body swap #body switch #male transformation

[twoiafart]

BAELA’S ESCAPE Artwork by Diego Gisbert Llorens

Lord Thaddeus was well-liked and respected, and had fought for Queen Rhaenyra in the Dance. Also, the fact that all Lord Rowan’s offspring were male counted heavily in his favor; if he were to father a son with Lady Baela, Aegon III would have a clear successor. But he was also forty years Baela’s elder, bald and big-bellied.

Baela indignantly refused the match—and when the Hand had her confined to her rooms, she escaped by climbing out a window, swapping clothing with a washerwoman, and making her way to the docks, where a fisherman delivered her to Driftmark. A fortnight later, she and Lord Alyn Velaryon were wed.

#asoiaf art #baela velaryon #diego gisbert llorens