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novaursa · 22 days

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good evening I saw that you were still taking requests

I had an idea where fem!targaryen is Aegon's twin sister, she was sent at the same time as Daeron to Oldtown She was always extremely close to her twin brother but his character didn't match the court.

She looks a lot like Daemon, a bit of a rebellious princess and her grandfather sent her to their house to help her recover. but arriving in Oldtown she created a more than close bond with her uncle Sir Gwayne.

If we could have the complexity of their relationship, like the first time their outlook on each other changed, first kiss but they are still consumed by the fact that it's not right

They would have a very close relationship, Gwayne is someone who is very teasing and even a little arrogant. They would probably marry under the old and new gods like Targaryen and for many years no one else knows except Aegon

then when Aegon was made king, Alicent contacted her brother again but at the same time would hear about several children with white hair and purple eyes who would be in Oldtown, she would immediately think of bastards but she would never have thought of her brother and her daughter

Otto and Alicent would be angry and even disgusted by Gwayne's behavior but when they return to King's Landing they are welcomed wonderfully by Aegon who is more than happy to see his nephews and nieces again 🫶🏼👀

A Flame in Exile

- Summary: Your mother and grandsire have sent you away to Oldtown. You were too unruly like your uncle Daemon, they said. But Gwayne never shied away from fire.

- Paring: niece!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are closed!

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

The wind bites at your face as the ship draws closer to the towering spire of the Hightower. You shiver slightly, though not from the cold. Oldtown is a world away from the Red Keep, and though you’ve heard much of its grandeur and history, the thought of calling this place home sits uneasily within you. Yet, the unease is nothing compared to the aching emptiness left by your separation from Aegon.

Your twin. Your other half. His tear-streaked face is burned into your mind, his voice—trembling and desperate—echoes in your ears. "Please, don’t leave me," he had cried, clinging to you with a desperation that had nearly broken your resolve. His arms wrapped around you so tightly that it felt like he was trying to fuse your very souls together, as if by sheer force of will he could keep you by his side.

But your mother had intervened. Alicent’s voice had been cold and firm, like steel wrapped in velvet, her eyes flashing with something you couldn't quite place as she pried Aegon’s arms from around your neck. "Do not make a scene, Aegon," she had hissed, her grip on him as unyielding as her will. And then, with one last pained look, you had been pulled away, ushered towards the ship that would take you to Oldtown, to the Hightower. To your new life.

Even now, as you stand on the deck, the memory haunts you. Aegon, your other half, left behind in the Red Keep, with no one who truly understands him. The thought that you are the only one who ever did brings you little comfort, for what use is understanding when you are not there to provide it?

You glance down at Daeron, your little brother, standing beside you. His wide eyes are filled with awe, and a hint of fear as he stares at the looming city before him. He is too young to understand the full weight of what has been done, but you see the uncertainty in the way he clutches at your hand. You squeeze his hand in return, offering what little comfort you can, though the gesture feels hollow.

The ship finally docks, and the crew is quick to lower the gangplank. As you descend, you are met by a small party of retainers, dressed in the colors of House Hightower. At their head stands Gwayne Hightower, your uncle, and eldest son of Otto Hightower, your grandsire. His presence is commanding, yet there is a warmth in his gaze that eases some of the tension coiled within you.

“Welcome to Oldtown,” Gwayne greets, his voice smooth and gentle, with a hint of the formality you’ve come to expect from a Hightower. He bows his head to you first, acknowledging your status, before turning to Daeron with a softer expression. “Prince Daeron, it is an honor to have you here.”

Daeron blinks up at Gwayne, unsure of what to say, but Gwayne’s easy smile seems to relax him. “Thank you, Ser Gwayne,” Daeron finally replies, his voice small but polite.

“And you, Princess Y/N,” Gwayne turns his full attention to you, his grey eyes meeting yours with a curiosity that is hard to miss. “It has been many years since we last met, but I can see the blood of the dragon runs strong in you. You have grown into a fine lady.”

You offer him a nod, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. His words are kind, but you see the caution in his gaze. You are a stranger to him, a puzzle to be unraveled. And in this moment, you feel more alone than ever. Yet, there is something in Gwayne's demeanor that draws you in—an undercurrent of understanding, as if he too knows what it is to be caught between duty and desire.

“We have prepared quarters for you both within the Hightower,” Gwayne continues, gesturing to the towering structure behind him. “Your retainers will find all the accommodations they require as well. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask.”

You incline your head in thanks, finally finding your voice. “Thank you, Ser Gwayne. Your hospitality is appreciated.”

As you follow Gwayne through the streets of Oldtown, Daeron trailing close behind, you cannot help but marvel at the city around you. It is a place of ancient history, where every stone seems to hum with the weight of the ages. The Citadel looms in the distance, a symbol of knowledge and power, while the Starry Sept stands as a beacon of faith. Yet, despite the grandeur, you find no comfort here. This is not your home. And though Gwayne’s presence is steady and kind, you know it will be some time before you can truly trust him, or anyone else here.

When you finally reach the Hightower, you are led through its winding corridors to your chambers. They are lavishly appointed, far more luxurious than anything you expected, but the opulence feels cold, impersonal. You cannot help but think of the warmth of the Red Keep, of the fire-lit chambers where you and Aegon would hide away from the world, finding solace in each other’s company.

Once you and Daeron are settled, Gwayne excuses himself, leaving you alone with your brother. Daeron, still so young, looks to you for guidance, for reassurance. And though you ache to give it to him, you feel the weight of your own uncertainty pressing down on you.

“Do you think we’ll be happy here?” Daeron asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You look down at him, his innocent face so full of hope, and force a smile. “We’ll make the best of it,” you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. “We have each other, and that is what matters.”

He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and you pull him into a hug. But as you hold him close, you cannot shake the feeling that something has been irreparably broken. You are no longer whole, no longer tethered to the one person who understood you completely. And as you close your eyes, you wonder if you will ever feel at home again.

As the night falls and the Hightower grows quiet, you sit by the window, staring out at the city below. Somewhere out there, in the vastness of this world, is Aegon, your twin, your other half. You hope he is safe, hope he knows that you did not want to leave him. But hope feels fragile in the face of the reality you now face.

In the distance, the Starry Sept’s bells toll, their mournful sound carrying on the wind. You wonder if Aegon can hear them too, wherever he is. You wonder if he is thinking of you, as you are thinking of him.

And as you drift into an uneasy sleep, you cling to the memory of his tears, of his desperate pleas. For they are all you have left of him now, and you fear that, without them, you may forget what it feels like to be whole.

The days in Oldtown have blurred into a monotonous routine, a far cry from the vibrant, if chaotic, life you once knew in the Red Keep. The city, with all its ancient grandeur, has become a gilded cage, and you find yourself suffocated by the very walls meant to protect you. Daeron, though still young, has adapted better than you expected, throwing himself into his lessons with the maesters. You, however, remain adrift, seeking solace in the only companionship that has begun to mean anything in this new life—Gwayne Hightower.

From the moment you arrived, Gwayne has been a constant presence, hovering at the edges of your life in Oldtown. At first, you found his attentions burdensome, a reminder of your exile from King's Landing. But over time, the sharp edges of your resentment dulled, replaced by a begrudging acceptance of his company. Now, months after your arrival, Gwayne’s presence has become something you not only expect but anticipate. His arrogance, his teasing remarks—they no longer irritate you as they once did. Instead, they have become a strange kind of comfort, a link to a life that feels farther away with each passing day.

On this particular afternoon, you find yourself in one of the Hightower’s many courtyards, the sun hanging low in the sky. The air is cool, the first signs of autumn creeping in. You sit on a stone bench, watching as the shadows stretch long and thin across the cobblestones. Gwayne is beside you, his usual smirk in place, though his eyes are softer than usual.

“You know,” he begins, his voice light with mockery, “I never thought Oldtown would see the day a dragon would be caged within its walls.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Caged? You speak as if I’m some kind of beast, Gwayne.”

“Aren’t you?” he retorts, though there’s no malice in his tone. “You have the blood of the dragon in you, after all. And from what I hear, more of Daemon’s fire than Viserys’s... whatever it is he has.” He leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “That’s why they sent you here, isn’t it? To keep you away from your dear twin. To keep you from burning down the world.”

You bristle at his words, even as a part of you knows there is truth in them. “And what would you know of such things?” you snap back, though there’s little heat behind it. “You Hightowers are always so certain of yourselves, always so sure of your place in the world.”

Gwayne laughs, a low, rich sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “We are sure of our place because we make it so. That is what my father taught me. But you… you are different, aren’t you? You don’t fit neatly into anyone’s plans, not even your own.”

His words sting because they cut too close to the bone. You are different, an anomaly in your own family. Not quite the dutiful daughter Alicent hoped for, nor the rebellious one like Daemon that Viserys once admired, you have always straddled a line that leaves you belonging nowhere. And here, in Oldtown, that difference is magnified, a glaring fault line that Gwayne seems all too eager to point out.

But today, something is different. The way Gwayne looks at you, the way his voice lingers on your name—it’s all sharper, more intense. He’s leaning in closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing moment, until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. The tension between you crackles like lightning before a storm, dangerous and thrilling.

“Why do you do that?” you ask suddenly, your voice softer than you intended. “Why do you always bring up my uncle? Why do you always remind me of why I’m here?”

Gwayne’s smirk falters, just for a moment, before he straightens up, the teasing mask slipping back into place. “Because it’s the truth, and I’ve found that you prefer truth over the pretty lies most would tell you.”

You can’t argue with that, but it doesn’t ease the knot in your chest. “It’s a bitter truth,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

“Perhaps,” he agrees, his tone shifting, becoming more serious. “But it’s the truth nonetheless. You are fire, my lady. Wild and untamed, just like Daemon. And it scares them—all of them. My father, your mother, the king… they don’t know what to do with you.”

“And you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do I scare you, Gwayne?”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, there’s no arrogance in his gaze, no teasing light in his eyes. “Yes,” he says quietly. “But I find that I’m drawn to the flame, even knowing I might get burned.”

The admission hangs between you, heavy and charged. The world seems to narrow down to this moment, to the space between you and Gwayne, a space that feels both too vast and too close. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he fights against something he doesn’t fully understand. But then, so do you.

“I should go,” you say, the words an echo of what you think you should say, but not what you want.

Gwayne’s hand reaches out before you can move, his fingers curling around your wrist with a gentle pressure. It’s a small touch, but it ignites something within you, a spark that quickly flares into a dangerous blaze. His touch feels like the first real thing you’ve felt since you left King’s Landing, since you left Aegon behind.

“Stay,” he says, his voice a soft command, a plea wrapped in steel. “Just for a little while longer.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know this is wrong, forbidden, and dangerous. The Seven would condemn it, your family would disown you, and yet... there’s a part of you that doesn’t care. A part of you that craves this, that wants to feel alive again, even if it means stepping into the flames.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look into Gwayne’s eyes, seeing the same conflict mirrored in his gaze. And then, slowly, you nod.

He pulls you closer, his hand moving from your wrist to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. For a moment, neither of you moves, the world suspended in a fragile balance. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Gwayne leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss.

The contact is electric, sending shockwaves through your body, waking something within you that has been dormant for too long. You respond without thinking, without caring, your hands moving to his shoulders as you press closer to him. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if you are both trying to fill the void that has been gnawing at you for months.

When you finally pull back, breathless and trembling, Gwayne’s eyes are dark with something you’ve never seen before. “This… this is madness,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

“Madness,” you echo, your own voice shaking. “But it’s the only thing that feels real.”

For a moment, you both just sit there, the weight of what you’ve done pressing down on you. You should feel guilt, shame, regret—but all you feel is a strange kind of relief, as if a burden you didn’t know you were carrying has been lifted.

Gwayne’s hand still rests on your cheek, and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering. “We can’t do this,” he says, but there’s no conviction in his words, no real intent to stop.

“I know,” you reply, though you don’t mean it. You both know the truth—you will do this again, and again, until you’ve burned through all the self-control you have left. It’s inevitable, like the pull of the moon on the tide.

But for now, you just sit there, in the fading light of the courtyard, your hands still intertwined, the air between you charged with a promise of something more. Something dangerous, something forbidden, but something that, for the first time in months, makes you feel alive.

It's a night that feels suspended in time, where the old gods and new alike seem to hold their breath, watching, waiting.

You stand beside Gwayne, your heart pounding in your chest, each beat a thunderous drum in the stillness of the room. The decision to marry in secret, away from the eyes of the court and the judgment of the realm, was one made in the quiet moments between stolen kisses and whispered confessions. It was born out of a love that neither of you could deny, a love that defied the rules of blood and duty, a love that could only be sealed in the shadows.

The septon who stands before you is not one from the grand Starry Sept of Oldtown. He is an ostracized man, a septon fallen from grace, his robes frayed and worn, his face lined with the scars of a hard life. But his eyes are sharp, and there is a solemnity in his bearing that speaks of a deep connection to the gods, both old and new. It is this man that Gwayne sought out, a man who would not only marry you in secret but who would bless this union under the eyes of both the Seven and the Valyrian gods—an acknowledgment of the blood that flows in your veins, the fire that binds you to your ancestors.

The chamber is small, tucked away in the bowels of the Hightower, a place known only to a few trusted souls. The only witnesses to this union are the flickering candles and the ancient stone walls that have stood through centuries of history. And here, in this hidden place, you are about to make a vow that will bind you to Gwayne for eternity.

Gwayne turns to you, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The man who once teased you with sharp words and arrogant smirks now looks at you with a love so profound it feels like it could consume you both. He reaches out, taking your hands in his, his grip firm and warm. The callouses on his palms are a testament to his life as a warrior, but the way he holds you is gentle, reverent.

"My love," Gwayne begins, his voice steady but thick with emotion, "before the eyes of the Seven, and in the presence of the Valyrian gods, I take you as my wife. You are my fire, my light, my salvation. In you, I have found not just love, but a purpose, a reason to be. I vow to protect you, to cherish you, to stand by your side, no matter what trials we may face. From this day until my last, you are mine, and I am yours."

His words send a shiver through you, the weight of his vow settling deep in your heart. You can feel the truth of them, the way they resonate with the very core of who you are. When you speak, your voice is soft but unwavering, carrying with it the depth of your own love and conviction.

"Gwayne," you begin, your eyes locking with his, "you are my heart, my strength, my true companion. In a world that seeks to tear us apart, you are the one who has always stood by me, who has seen me for who I truly am, and loved me all the same. I vow to stand with you, to fight for us, to love you with all that I am. We may walk a dangerous path, but I choose it willingly, because I choose you. Now and always, I am yours, and you are mine."

The septon steps forward, his voice low and gravelly as he intones the ancient rites. "Before the eyes of the gods, both new and old, I bless this union. By the light of the Seven and the fire of Old Valyria, may your love be eternal, may your bond be unbreakable. What is done here in secret, let it be known in the hearts of those who bear witness."

He raises a small vial, pouring the contents—a mixture of oil and salt—into a shallow basin. The scent of it fills the room, sharp and cleansing. He dips his fingers into the mixture and anoints your foreheads, first Gwayne’s and then yours, marking you with the symbols of both faiths. The coolness of the oil against your skin is grounding, a reminder of the gravity of this moment.

"By the authority granted to me by the gods," the septon continues, his voice carrying the weight of the ages, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You are bound by blood, by love, and by the will of the gods. Go forth as one, in strength and in unity."

Gwayne pulls you to him then, his hands cradling your face as he kisses you deeply, passionately, in a way that speaks of all the love he has kept hidden from the world. The kiss is a sealing of your vows, a promise made flesh. You melt into him, your hands gripping his tunic as you pour every ounce of your heart into that kiss, into this moment that is yours and his alone.

When you finally part, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting together as you share the silence of the moment, the weight of what you’ve just done pressing down on you. There is a quiet reverence in the room, a sense that something sacred has just taken place, even if it is a secret that must be kept from the world.

Gwayne doesn’t release you, his hands still holding you close as if he’s afraid to let go, as if by doing so, this moment will shatter. His eyes search yours, and what he finds there makes him smile, a rare, genuine smile that softens the edges of his features. “You are mine now,” he whispers, a note of wonder in his voice. “And I am yours.”

“Always,” you whisper back, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “No matter what comes.”

The septon quietly gathers his things, his presence now a shadow in the background, but before he leaves, he pauses at the door, looking back at you both. “May the gods watch over you,” he says softly, and there’s a hint of sadness in his voice, as if he knows the dangers that lie ahead for two who dare to love in defiance of the world.

And then, he’s gone, leaving you and Gwayne alone in the dimly lit chamber, the only witnesses to your union now the flickering flames and the silent walls.

Gwayne takes your hand, leading you to a low table where a small feast has been laid out, simple but thoughtful. The food and drink are symbols of the life you will now share, a life that must remain hidden in the shadows, but one that is no less real for it.

You sit together, the silence between you comfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts. When Gwayne finally speaks, his voice is quiet, but there’s a fierceness to it that makes you look up.

“We will find a way, my love,” he says, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “No matter what, we will find a way to be together.”

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, your heart swelling with love for this man who has become your everything. “Yes,” you agree, your voice filled with the same determination. “We will.”

The night stretches on, and eventually, Gwayne rises, pulling you into his arms once more. He leads you to the bed that has been prepared, and as you lie down together, the weight of the world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by vows spoken in secret but no less sacred.

In the quiet darkness, Gwayne’s fingers trace the outline of your face, his touch tender and full of love. “Sleep, my wife,” he murmurs, his voice a balm to your soul. “For tomorrow, we begin the rest of our lives.”

You close your eyes, your head resting against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm that lulls you into sleep. And as you drift off, you know that no matter what the world might say, no matter what the future holds, you and Gwayne are bound together by something far stronger than duty or blood. You are bound by love, a love that defies the gods and the world alike.

And that, you think as sleep finally takes you, is all that matters.

The night outside the Red Keep is eerily still, as if the very air is holding its breath, waiting for something momentous to happen. Inside the queen’s chambers, the atmosphere is equally tense. Alicent Hightower sits at her desk, a single candle flickering beside her, casting shadows on the stone walls. Her hands tremble slightly as she unfolds the letter she has just received, the familiar sigil of House Hightower stamped in red wax at the seal. She has been waiting for this letter, though she dreads what it might contain.

Otto Hightower stands nearby, his hands clasped behind his back, his face an impassive mask. His eyes, however, are sharp, watching his daughter closely as she reads. The silence in the room is oppressive, broken only by the soft rustling of the parchment as Alicent’s eyes scan the contents.

As she reaches the end of the letter, her face pales, and her breath hitches. Slowly, as if the action costs her all the strength she has left, she lowers the letter to the desk. Her hand lingers on it for a moment before she crumples it in her fist, the delicate paper crinkling loudly in the quiet room.

“What does it say?” Otto asks, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.

Alicent doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stares down at the crushed letter in her hand, as if by squeezing it tightly enough, she could somehow undo the words it contains. But no amount of denial can erase what she has read. Finally, she raises her eyes to meet her father’s gaze, and the look she gives him is one of profound unease.

“He’s coming to King’s Landing,” she says, her voice low and strained. “Gwayne. With… his family.”

Otto’s brows knit together slightly, though his expression remains carefully controlled. “His family?” he echoes, the words heavy with unspoken questions.

Alicent swallows hard, a sense of dread settling deep in her gut. “Yes,” she whispers, her mind racing as she considers the implications. The rumors she has heard, the whispers that have reached her ears in recent months, suddenly take on a new and terrifying significance.

She looks back at her father, her voice trembling as she asks, “Have you heard the whispers, Father? The rumors coming from Oldtown… about bastards walking the halls of the Hightower? Children with silver hair and purple eyes?”

Otto’s gaze narrows, a flicker of something—concern, perhaps—passing through his eyes before he schools his features once more. “Rumors, nothing more,” he replies, though there is a carefulness to his tone now. “Gwayne married a noble lady, a match arranged by our family in Oldtown. It was a quiet affair, nothing that would draw too much attention. The children you speak of are likely theirs, legitimate, though the Hightowers have chosen to keep their names and details discreet, to avoid unnecessary scrutiny.”

Alicent’s heart hammers in her chest, the dread in her stomach deepening into something closer to panic. She stands abruptly, pacing the length of her chamber as she tries to make sense of the situation. The image of those children—silver-haired, violet-eyed—flashes in her mind, and with it, a terrible realization begins to take root.

“The only woman who could give birth to children with those features,” she says slowly, her voice thick with fear, “is a Targaryen. A woman with the blood of Old Valyria. And the only one who has been close enough to Gwayne… is her. My daughter.”

Otto remains silent, his eyes following his daughter as she paces. He understands the gravity of her words, the implications of what she is suggesting. But he is also a man who has spent his life navigating the treacherous waters of court politics, and he knows better than to give in to panic.

“Alicent,” he begins, his voice firm but not unkind, “we do not know for certain. These are only rumors, whispers in the dark meant to sow discord. We cannot act on mere speculation.”

But Alicent is not so easily reassured. She stops in her tracks, turning to face him with a look of desperation. “And what if the rumors are true? What if she has given Gwayne children? What if those children come to King’s Landing with him? What then?”

Otto exhales slowly, his mind already working through the possible scenarios. “If the children are indeed of Targaryen blood,” he says carefully, “then we must ensure they are seen as legitimate. We must present them as the offspring of Gwayne’s marriage, no matter the truth. If they bear the look of Valyria, it will only serve to strengthen their claim as trueborn heirs of House Hightower.”

Alicent shakes her head, the fear in her eyes now mingled with a deep, gnawing guilt. “But what of her, Father? What of my daughter? If it becomes known that she has married her own uncle, that she has borne his children… it will be seen as a scandal, a sin in the eyes of the Seven.”

Otto moves toward her then, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “We will deal with it as we must,” he says, his voice resolute. “We have always been able to navigate the complexities of power, and this will be no different. But for now, we must be calm. We must wait and see what Gwayne brings with him to King’s Landing. If the whispers are true, we will control the narrative. We will ensure that whatever happens, our family remains strong, untarnished by scandal.”

But Alicent can’t shake the image of her daughter, the girl she sent away so many years ago, now grown into a woman whose life has taken a path she never anticipated. A path that has led her back to the very heart of the storm that Alicent herself helped create.

As she looks into her father’s eyes, she sees the determination there, the cold pragmatism that has always defined him. And she knows that whatever happens, Otto Hightower will do whatever is necessary to protect their family’s legacy. But as for her… Alicent is no longer sure where the line between duty and love lies. And the thought of what might come to light when Gwayne arrives sends a fresh wave of dread coursing through her.

Because deep down, Alicent knows that the rumors are more than just whispers. They are the truth, a truth she has tried so hard to deny. And that truth is coming to King’s Landing, wrapped in the guise of her brother’s family—a family that should never have existed, yet one that now threatens to unravel everything she has fought to preserve.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the sprawling courtyard of the Red Keep. The air is heavy with anticipation, the kind that prickles at the back of your neck and settles uneasily in your stomach. Dowager Queen Alicent stands with her father, Otto Hightower, at her side, their eyes fixed on the great gates that lead into the heart of King’s Landing. Today, Gwayne Hightower returns to the capital, and with him, the secrets that have festered in the shadows of Oldtown.

As the gates creak open, the first thing Alicent notices is the Hightower banners, fluttering proudly in the breeze. A small company of knights and retainers rides in, their armor gleaming in the late afternoon sun, followed by a carriage flanked by more soldiers. But it is the figure on horseback at the head of the procession that draws her attention, making her heart skip a beat.

Gwayne Hightower rides in with all the confidence of a man who has nothing to hide, his expression calm, almost defiant. But it is not just his presence that sends a chill down Alicent’s spine—it is the woman who rides beside him. Her daughter, the princess she sent away so many years ago, now a grown woman with the unmistakable look of her Valyrian heritage. Her silver hair, cascading down her back in loose waves, catches the light, and her purple eyes, sharp and discerning, seem to pierce through the crowd.

But it is not just her presence that shocks Alicent and Otto—it is the way she and Gwayne sit side by side, unashamed and unafraid, as if daring anyone to question their union. Behind them, four children trail on smaller horses, their features a striking mix of Hightower and Targaryen—silver hair, purple eyes, and faces that mirror the legacy of both bloodlines.

Alicent’s heart sinks. The whispers, the rumors, they are all true. Her worst fears have materialized before her very eyes. She can barely breathe as she steps forward with Otto, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

“Gwayne… what have you done?” Alicent’s voice is sharp, almost a hiss, as she locks eyes with her brother. “How could you be so reckless? So shameless?”

Otto steps forward as well, his usually composed demeanor now laced with anger. “This… this is an abomination,” he declares, his voice low but filled with authority. “You bring shame to our house, Gwayne. And you—” he turns to his granddaughter, his voice tightening—“you have brought dishonor to your name and to the memory of your father.”

But before either of them can say more, there is a sudden movement, a blur of silver and gold as someone rushes past them. Alicent barely has time to process what is happening before Aegon, now king and clad in his royal finery, sweeps forward. His face lights up with pure joy as he closes the distance between himself and his sister.

“Sister!” Aegon exclaims, his voice filled with delight. Without a second thought, he pulls her into a tight embrace, laughing as he buries his face in her hair. “Gods, I’ve missed you.”

You return the embrace just as fiercely, the years of separation melting away in an instant. Aegon’s warmth, his familiar scent, it all feels like home, like a piece of your heart has been returned to you. When he finally pulls back, he keeps his hands on your shoulders, his eyes scanning your face as if to reassure himself that you are truly there.

Aegon then turns his attention to the four children standing quietly behind you and Gwayne, their wide eyes watching the scene with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. His face softens as he approaches them, kneeling down to their level.

“And who are these fine young dragons?” Aegon asks, his voice gentle as he ruffles the hair of the eldest boy, who looks so much like his mother.

“They’re my children,” you say softly, pride evident in your voice. “Your nephews and nieces.”

Aegon grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. “I see they take after you, sister. They have the look of Targaryens—strong, bold.” He then looks up at Gwayne, his smile never wavering. “You’ve done well, Uncle.”

Gwayne inclines his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

Alicent’s face drains of color as she watches the scene unfold, her worst fears confirmed. She steps forward, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Aegon… did you know about this?” Her eyes bore into her son, searching for any sign of deceit.

Aegon straightens up, turning to face his mother with an expression of calm amusement. “Of course, Mother. Did you truly think my sister and I would not stay in contact? We’ve always been close. She wrote to me often from Oldtown. I knew everything.”

Alicent’s hands shake, her nails digging into her palms as she struggles to contain her emotions. “And you… you approve of this? Of this union?” Her voice breaks on the last word, the full weight of what has happened crashing down on her.

Aegon’s smile only widens, a hint of defiance in his eyes. “Approve? I rejoice in it. They’ve done nothing wrong. They’ve followed their hearts, and that’s more than most in this wretched world can claim.”

Otto’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes burn with anger and frustration as he steps forward. “This is not just about following one’s heart, Aegon. This is about the sanctity of the family, of the realm. A marriage like this… it will bring scandal, division. It goes against everything we’ve worked to build.”

But Aegon only laughs, a sound that echoes in the tense courtyard. “What scandal? The Seven Kingdoms are mine, and I will decide what is scandal and what is not. My sister and Gwayne are married, and their children are legitimate in my eyes. That is all that matters.”

He turns back to you and Gwayne, his expression softening once more. “Come,” he says, extending his hand to you. “Let us go inside. You’ve been away from home too long.”

Without waiting for a response, Aegon takes your hand and leads you toward the entrance of the Red Keep, Gwayne and the children following closely behind. The knights and retainers part to let you pass, their faces a mixture of shock, confusion, and respect. As you walk, you feel the weight of your family’s judgment pressing down on you, but with Aegon at your side, you feel an unshakeable sense of confidence.

Alicent and Otto remain rooted in place, watching as you and your family disappear into the castle. Alicent’s face is ashen, her eyes wide with disbelief and horror. She opens her mouth to say something, to call out to her son, but no words come. The truth of what has happened, the reality of the situation, is too overwhelming.

As the doors to the Red Keep close behind you, you can feel the walls of the castle seem to close in, suffocating in their familiar embrace. But there is also a strange sense of liberation, of triumph, in walking beside Gwayne, your husband, with your children in tow, and the support of the king himself.

Whatever the future holds, you know that this moment—this homecoming—will be the beginning of something new. Something that, for better or worse, will change the course of your family’s history forever.

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hord #hotd x female reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #gwayne x you #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower #gwayne x y/n

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foxtrot91 · 6 days

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shovel talk

“So,” Maddie says, eyes squinting as she looks Tommy over, wine glass cradled in one hand while the other rests on her hip.

They’re in the hallway of Bobby and Athena’s new place, and Tommy doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s catching him in the bathroom hallway just as Tommy’s about to return to the party. Remembering another conversation at another party, he suddenly wishes he was holding a slice of cake; though he gets the feeling Maddie wouldn’t be easily deflected with it, Hen certainly wasn’t.

“Are you looking for the bathroom?” He asks instead, tossing a glance behind him. “It’s right over there, second on the left.”

He gives her his best grin; just because he knows this conversation is inevitable doesn’t mean he has to make it easy on her. Her eyebrows raise and Tommy thinks someone so small shouldn’t give him the same feeling as being dressed down by his sergeant once did. He hopes for Chim’s sake that he doesn’t find himself in the doghouse too often.

“So,” she says again, ignoring his directions to the bathroom. “I was just thinking that we haven’t really had a chance to properly meet.”

“Oh,” Tommy says, still suspicious about where this conversation is going. “I guess we haven’t.”

It’s true, it’s only been a couple months since he and Evan got together and between their differing schedules and the drama going on behind the scenes at the 118, there hadn’t been much time for larger get togethers. For the most part, Tommy and Evan have either spent their time just the two of them or hanging out with Eddie in an effort to keep his mind off of Christopher’s departure. Which, thank god that has since been resolved, for awhile there Eddie had been a bit of a basket case. There had been the wedding, of course, but even a normal wedding doesn’t leave time for the bride and groom to spend much time with individual guests, and there’s had been anything but normal.

“You know, Buck was really nervous when he told me about you,” she says, eyes glittering as she looks him over before taking a sip of her wine.

“Coming out to someone you care about will do that to a person,” Tommy says simply, eyebrow raised.

“Of course,” she says with a soft chuckle before continuing, “it made me realize that he’s never told me about any of his other relationships before.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, I knew they existed and I knew their names, but he never once talked about them, I barely even knew a thing about Ali. Even Taylor, she was his longest relationship and I barely heard a word about her. Then there’s Natalia who was barely a blip.” She pauses here and takes another sip from her wine before shifting her gaze back to Tommy. “Actually, there was one person I heard a lot about, even if I never got the chance to meet her.”

“Abby,” Tommy says, figuring with what he knows of Evan’s relationship history that she’s a safe bet.

“Mmhm,” she hums, nodding in agreement. “But since that first day he told me about you, you’re all he talks about now.”

Tommy feels warmth bloom in his chest at that admission, the thought of Evan feeling happy and secure enough in their - admittedly young - relationship to talk about it with others leaves him feeling pleased.

“It kind of reminds me of how he was with Abby, actually,” she continues, “before he’d accepted that she was gone I got to hear all about her, almost felt like I knew her.” There’s a bit of a wistful edge to her voice, though Tommy can tell it’s less about Abby and more about Evan's happiness. “He hasn’t been that way with anyone since, at not least until now. So I guess you could say that as his big sister I thought I'd better check to make sure that he’s not going to wake up one day and find you’ve suddenly discovered a burning desire to – I don’t know, Amelia Earhart your way around the world and leave him behind.”

Her voice grows firmer on that last bit as she pins Tommy with her gaze, eyebrow raised. Despite the teasing edge still present in her voice, Tommy can tell she’s serious, and truthfully, he can’t say he blames her. Eddie once told him over a shared six-pack that Evan has abandonment issues the size of the moon, and everything he’s learned about his past relationships - both romantic and familial - supports that. If Evan has avoided talking about past girlfriends, Tommy wonders if it had anything to do with a fear that they’d leave him behind too. He wonders what that says about the fact that he apparently talks about Tommy with those closest to him.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Amelia Earhart's disappearance is a pretty strong deterrent for that. Also— can’t do Muay Thai in the sky,” he says, unable to resist responding with his own personal brand of humour. Maddie doesn’t respond during the pause he takes to gather his thoughts, her face giving nothing away. “But... the truth is, that I can’t tell you the future, I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, let alone six months from now.” He pauses, suddenly wishing he had his own glass of wine to occupy his hands as he contemplates his next words. “What I can tell you is that I didn’t step into this lightly, and that I care about him a lot.” He takes a moment to let the truth of that sink in before adding, “and for what it’s worth, if you talked to any of my friends, I’m pretty sure they’d tell you the same thing, which is that I talk about Evan so much that they’re probably sick of hearing about him now.” It's true, Sal barely manages to repress the eyeroll whenever Evan's name comes up, and Angela and Jenkins have started a drinking game during Trivia Night based on how often Tommy says his name. It's made them terrible at trivia.

The beat of silence that passes between he and Maddie isn't exactly uncomfortable, but he does find himself holding his breath a little wondering if he passed. He has the idle thought that she’d be good at poker with how little she’s giving away with her facial expression. But then, a smile stretches over her face, and Tommy finds himself sighing in relief. This was different than his talk with Hen and Karen that had obviously been more teasing in nature. While Maddie may have done a good job in keeping her tone overall light, Tommy’s under no delusions that she wasn’t serious in sizing Tommy up to determine if he was fit to date her brother.

“Good,” she says simply, and then tilts her head slightly towards the kitchen. “I need a top-up, and you seem like you could use a glass, have a drink with me?”

“Absolutely,” Tommy agrees, his own grin stretching across his face.

He follows Maddie into the kitchen where she grabs a second glass for him before pulling out the wine she and Chim brought – a merlot – and pouring him a glass before topping off her own.

“So, you’re a pilot,” she says, a statement, not a question.

“I am.”

“Could be handy having a pilot in the family,” she comments, eyes twinkling, “Chim said you flew Eddie to Vegas.”

It's said nonchalantly, with a hint of expectation but before he can respond, Evan’s rounding the corner, clearly having heard at least part of their conversation. “Oh no,” he groans, “you do not get to commandeer my pilot boyfriend so that you and Chim can have some private date weekend in Vegas.”

“I said no such thing,” Maddie claims, hands raised, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

“But you thought it,” Evan says accusingly.

Tommy watches them, barely suppressing his own laughter as he grabs a potato-chip from a nearby bowl to munch on. He lets them go back and forth, trading verbal jabs in the way all siblings do before he takes his moment to jump in.

“I’d be happy to fly your sister to Vegas,” Tommy says, grinning at Evan’s indignant look and Maddie’s triumphant one.

“Thank you,” she says, voice overly sweet as she pats Tommy on the hand before picking up her glass. She starts towards the door, presumably to rejoin the others, but he doesn’t miss it when she leans in and whispers to Evan, “he’s a keeper,” before smacking a kiss to his cheek as she heads out the door. Evan’s face softens at Maddie’s approval, and Tommy’s does too.

Evan joins him at the table, cheeks pink as he swipes Tommy’s glass to steal a sip.

“You disappeared on me,” he says, looking up at Tommy. “How bad was it? She give you the third degree?”

“It wasn’t bad at all,” Tommy says honestly, “I like that you have people who care.”

“Hm,” is all he says, though Tommy can tell he’s at least a little pleased by it too. “Still, we need to have a talk about how you’re supposed to take my side in arguments with my sister,” he adds, semi-serious.

Laughing, Tommy stands from his seat and comes around the table, offering Evan his hand before pulling him back towards the door. “Evan, the only useful relationship advice my dad ever gave me was to ‘get in good with the family.’” He adds air-quotes and deepens his voice for effect. “Of course, he thought my relationships would look a lot different, but the advice is still solid,” he says, before adding, “besides, I like your sister, and flying Maddie and Chim to Vegas for a weekend would also mean flying you and I there.”

Evan perks up at that, “yeah?”

“Separate hotel rooms, of course,” Tommy adds, letting his smile take on a suggestive edge as they open the door to the balcony.

“Separate hotels,” Evan says, his own lascivious smile spreading across his face.

Whatever their faces are doing as they join the others must make it obvious what they’re both thinking about because the next thing he hears is Chim saying; “Mm, I don’t like that look, too reminiscent of Buck 1.0. Does anyone have a spray bottle? Gotta squirt him like an overgrown tomcat before he gets outta control.”

Tommy lets the subsequent laughter at Evan’s indignant squawk envelop him, somewhere in the background he hears Christopher question what Buck 1.0 means and Eddie insisting he doesn’t want to know. Tommy finds he’s enjoying himself, even if the laughter is at their expense. He wasn’t lying to Evan when he’d told him before that he’d been jealous of the family the 118 had become but for once, Tommy isn’t jealous. He doesn’t need to be, because this time he’s a part of it.

Read on ao3

#bucktommy #fanfiction #fox writes #maddie buckley #tommy kinard #evan buckley #I just feel like Buck talked a lot about Abby #and then like never discussed his other girlfriends much #but I’m convinced he talks incessantly about Tommy #just realized I forgot Natalia #that’s how relevant she was I guess

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jess-the-vampire · 4 months

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Happy Arborgeist Day/ Hurl'ullack!

Checked out the storyboard for another deleted s1 episode "No Tree Left Behind"

You can read it here:

An episode about boiling isles holidays and traditions? interlaced with eda and lilith's sister drama? This one was actually pretty interesting, and got me even a little sad, despite it absolutely being non canon now.

Thoughts on the cut episode below:

Honestly this board really serves to remind me we didn't get to know a ton about the actual culture of the Boiling isles, like we kinda get to know the stuff witches do on the isles, what they eat, and the everyday stuff they get into....but not so much about it's culture. You can kinda chalk that up to belos a little but this boarded episode was basically about keeping tradition and making new memories, even in spite of change, so it more or less feels like the crew either didn't have time for this or had other things to focus on.

So the culture of the island is a lot more in the background in the actual series as it keeps it's focus more on the characters dealing with their personal issues and with the conflict at hand.

Speaking of which, despite belos being the bad guy for his hatred and fear of witches, can't deny....the culture of the isles is quite disturbing at times that i can understand that not all humans are gonna have luz's extreme acceptance. Like king's holiday is primarily the celebration of demon overlords and is very casual about maiming others to present to the deity when talking about it. If the isles was a real place i think most humans would be a bit disturbed.

Anyways, king's part of the episode, while funny at times, is the least interesting of the two, the real emotional core is the A plot with eda and luz.

(I did think the scene with willow and gus was fun tho)

There is one scene where i think another demon calls king insensitive for putting the wrong bloodthirsty battle painting of demon history on display and king being like "Tomatoes, tomatoes, it's all the same and not a big deal", and the guy gets SUPER offended and i don't know how to take this scene.

Eda is such a menace during the holidays my god

Luz trying to tell Eda it's ok if her celebration tree is gone because she and her mama celebrated all holidays even if it wasn't on the correct day, and it was more about family in the end then the tree itself.

Only for it to be revealed this tree meant so much to eda because it reminded her of the days she and her sister got along is actually pretty heartbreaking.

Even Lilith, who, despite threatening luz's life to get her way, still has a moment of sadness for the fallen tree you can really feel from the panels. It's really good.

We get some moments for both the construction coven and the plant coven, though the construction coven acts more like.....an actual construction team.

The plant coven members being old guys had some fun jokes tho, think it's cute one wanted to intern willow at the end.

Also kiki cameo.

I know this is a canned episode, but i'm a bit glad we don't have an episode where some of the jokes are about eda telling luz their holiday traditions involve them all being naked and dancing around a tree, this....would of been taken a weird way.

also witches might be able to remove their SKIN??????!!!!

Also this board just remined me how inconvenient it really is that the coven guards don't have palisman, like eda just.....easily flies away from them and they can't catch up to her. Like this is an incredibly bad security system if your trained guards can't even fly up and chase after criminals, like my god.

One reason for sure you know this is basically non canon is apparently the tree in question, the Arborgeist. Is the tree that eda made her staff from, and there's only 10 of these on the entire isles that i assume supply all the palisman.

Basically, these were the proto palistrom trees.

I can kinda see why this was changed, like even if we take it that belos is cutting them down for his palisman eating, this would just raise the question why he's doing it NOW of all times. But on top of that, these rare trees that apparently only show up once per generation all being cut down at once feels like the kinda thing that would REALLY tick off the isles, especially if all palisman are being supplied by it.

Having the trees just be a normal thing that was depleting due to his consumption makes both him seem less suspicious, and the witches seem less dumb for just being....ok that they're not going to make staffs anymore.

It's implied they don't protest mostly out of fear, but still.

Also belos's, i assume fake, reasoning for chopping down the trees is apparently "We can't have you people celebrating non-coven holidays" and it's just, it's so petty.

granted, it's much more meaningful to actually SEE the tree being cut then having it be stated offscreen like in the show. Like even the resolution to this episode, as in, finding a sapling they plant, is still an offscreen thing in the final series. Where they just talk about replanting trees.

And of course, we gotta have a dance party ending, tho i do think the last scene tying back to the tale eda told about the holiday is very cute.

So it seems a lot of elements of this episode were more split between multiple episodes.

Still, a pretty decent episode, moreso for the main plot but the boards do great at really making you feel for eda and lilith despite it not even being animated.

#my art #the owl house #toh #eda clawthorne #eda the owl lady #luz noceda

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socialistexan · 5 months

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Directly next to each other lmao.

The "rich elites" thing is a distraction at best. It's much more about not realizing who your market is and then trying to capitalize on them on the worst possible time to try to see them a thing they don't want (or can't afford) in a time of rising income inequality and financial stress. It's a poor decision, pure and simple.

Pay artists fairly, absolutely, yes, all labor deserves to be compensated fairly, that's an underlying tenant of socialism, but usually it's in relation to bosses and the ruling rich, not other workers and poor college students.

I have no personal stake in this. I don't watch any content from Watcher. I never got into Ghost Files or Puppet History. I'm just someone who has been on the internet for 20 years and seen people like this make this mistake over and over.

The only one who pulled this off is Dropout, but they:

Did it gradually over 5-6 years and really only went mostly independent when they were forced to (ie their parent company tried to shut them down)

Have multiple times as much content from a wide set of talent that releases almost daily and has a very wide variety. Don't like D20? Here's Game Changer. Don't like that? Here's Um, Actually. Or Dirty Laundry. Or Very Important People. Or Total Forgiveness. Or Play it By Ear. Or the nearly two decades of CollegeHumor sketch comedy archives.

Let's face it, Sam Reich - as much as I love him - is kind of a nepo baby of the former Secretary of Labor of the United States of America (though imo maybe the most left-wing one in the nation's history), so even if he didn't help financially (there is no proof of this), Sam had a hell of an economics advisor in his father, former Secretary of Labor of the United States Robert Reich.

Watcher has, what, 3 on screen guys and a handful of people behind the scenes? It screams hubris or greed. Either/or.

#watcher #does the second person think rich people dont make YouTube videos?

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koimethehorizon · 1 year

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Fionna and Cake theory: Simon the Artist

Nothing like a good old creative panic attack.

Fionna and Cake good. Haven’t been excited about a show like this in a long time, though it being a part of Adventure Time does help quite a bit. I was holding on to some cautious optimism for the show when it was announced as yet another big IP series covering the multiverse (still waiting to groan at THAT scene where Prismo has to explain to us about there being infinite universes), but as usual, Adventure Time’s crew continues to surprise me with its creativity, humor, and thematic resonance.

The most striking part about Fionna and Cake so far is just how deliberately the show wants us to differentiate it from the original Adventure Time.

We’re getting shots where Simon pops an artery from his arm, a theme song that explicitly talks about suicidal ideation, discussions of rent and financial problems, and curses no longer disguised with AT’s usual dialogue. Adventure Time has always had violence, thematic density, and juvenile rating pushers, but they were always reserved at small points. Meanwhile, these are factors that are just casually shown and discussed in Fionna and Cake every 3 minutes or so. This is not an all-ages miniseries, it’s for young adults. (hint: this will be relevant later)

Let’s get right into it. This is much less a speculative lore theory and more on what thematic direction the story may be going.

Before we do, let’s get this out of the way first. This theory assumes that the current Fionna and Cake world is all a part of Simon’s head and not merely a separate multiverse, which… I’m certain is fact for the following reasons.

The immediately obvious piece is that Fionna and Cake was always the Ice King’s fanfiction. Now if you’re versed in AT’s continuity you’re probably going to be asking about the red light in Fionna and Cake + Fionna and… I’ve no answer for it unfortunately. It’ll probably be relevant later in the series and possibly age this post like milk but for now, we’re not here to focus on the how, but the why.

Second is that the intro and the ending of Ep 2 literally show Fionna’s world spilling right out of Simon’s head like an animated world out of a frozen brain. If that isn’t clear enough-

Didn't realize this until writing, but these glasses are just plastic made to look like Betty's

There’s no other explanation for this other than that this world is artificial or influenced by Simon in some sense. Fionna even specifies that the statue went under renovation 12 years ago, but nobody seems to know who it is. Considering how Finn looks in the episode, it’s likely that it’s been that long since Betty’s sacrifice in the finale.

With that out of the way, here it goes.

The reason Fionna and Cake exist in the first place is because the creators found Natasha Allegri’s genderswap designs charming and wanted an in-universe reason to use them the Ice King wanted to create trashy, wish fulfillment through art. It was a phase.

Definitely changed that image for publishing.

Simon can argue if they’re good or bad but it’s undeniably his art. It’s not just a portfolio he left behind in a closet, it’s an experience that was shared with a larger audience.

And even if wasn’t liked at first, the citizens of Ooo seemed to have come around to it. And some of them love it!

Whether Simon likes it or not, he has a fan base that is so endeared to the story he made all those years ago that they demand he makes more. Why let a good story, loved by many, go to rest when you still have some life and creativity left in you?

Can't move on in more ways than one.

Except, the problem is that Simon isn’t Ice King anymore. He’s aged out of it.

His real passion is history, he's an adult who who finds passion in the mundane and antiques from the past. And frankly, there isn’t much room for wish-fulfillment and fantasy anymore. Simon has responsibilities. He has a job and a daughter in a world that is moving faster than he can process.

And where Ice King wrote about looking for love, Simon has already had it.

And lost it. His mind isn’t focused on the rosiness of finding new love, it’s grieving the one he already thought was the one.

Wasn't he supposed to be good with kids?

Despite his new life experiences, all his peers seem to want from him is to make more of what they’re familiar with.

A story made from wants and wishes that he doesn’t even have anymore.

A story that was literally made by someone else at a different time. It’s a fiction he cannot connect to anymore, art that he’s embarrassed by. Yet also jealous of. Because at one point, the body Simon used to be in understood what exactly was missing from his life and could express that easily.

Seeing it again is like experiencing a retrospection of a cringey loser you don’t want to imagine having ever been. It’s not you anymore, and you don’t want to be reminded of that.

Because despite him having a new creative passion, no one seems to care about that. All they want is Fionna and Cake. And what is more lonely than other people misunderstanding what you’re trying to express?

If I failed to make it clear somehow, my theory is that: Simon’s relationship with Fionna and Cake is a metaphor for creators growing out of their art. And this new Fionna and Cake world is still comfort art born out of Simon’s current desires and perceptions.

The snippet subtitles this “child holding a phone”. I guess I’m wrong. Essay over.

Episode 1 and 2 both have direct parallels with each other. They’re both about a protagonist who are feeling displaced from their world, living a phase of losing a significant other, leaving a thankless job, wearing a mask of stability in front of the people they care for, seeking a guru at the heart of the forest, and concluding that they no longer belong in their current world.

But more importantly, Fionna and Cake (the characters, the world, and the show) are no longer for an all-ages crowd. Fionna and Cake now feature young adults, curses, gore, alcohol, partial nudity, financial issues, morning routines, mid-life crisis, and overt suicidal ideation. These are the feelings that Simon relates to and possibly desires to express through art. Thus, his story and our new miniseries have warped that way.

Am I overthinking this? No. How dare you assume that.

Is equating the unconscious writings of his dementia-ridden self to Simon as his younger self seem a bit odd? ….Kinda. Again, it’s not the how but the why that matters in this case. I'm NOT crazy, I have proof that there is some acknowledgment of this directly in the show.

Rewatch the bar scene and apply this reading of the episode to what Simon says there:

“Your old stuff, Fionna and Cake, honest to glob my man, is an inspiration to me.”

“My old stuff, I don’t really want to talk about my old stuff…”

“Why not? You should be proud! You wrote an entire extended universe in a fugue state if you think about it.”

"Simon cringes"

If you have ever shared art with a group of people in the past, you’ve had this conversation.

Not likely, not possibly, no perhapses. You HAVE.

And Fionna and Cake being an epilogue to a massive award-winning, near-decade-spanning, cultural sensation 5 years after it ended, might result in its creators feeling very retrospective about what audiences want from them now.

And how difficult it’s going to be to tell new experiences and tones from what’s come before. Also, come on. “Extended Universe?” That doesn’t sound like Fionna and Cake. That sounds a lot like something else.

Again, seems bad with this kid.

One of the more profound shots in the main trailer for the show features the inconspicuously Finn-like kid crouching at her Fionna and Cake book in Simon’s trash. I believe this character is going to have a major role in two ways. Convincing Simon to be proud of what he’s accomplished and/or embracing that Simon wants to move away from his original work in order to create something new, or perhaps more likely, reinvent Fionna and Cake into what Simon relates to now.

We’ll just have to see what Simon thinks of his new Fionna next week.

PS. Talking as a fan now, WHAT IS UP WITH THE 1000+ TREEHOUSE IN THE INTRO?!!! ARE WE REVISITING THIS TIMELINE AGAIN?

SOMEONE TELL ME NOW!!!

#television #adventure time #fionna and cake #simon petrikov #fionna campbell #animation #speculation #theories #fan theory #character analysis #discussion #adventure time spoilers #fionna and cake spoilers

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gffa · 5 months

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I have a lot of thoughts about the Watcher move and I get why they did it. I've kind of half-suspected something like this would happen, because I don't think their current business model is growing enough to make it profitable for them to keep the staff they have, not with the kind of videos they put out and they've been clear that they want this to be their livelihood and a genuine production studio. But the big production videos like this just cannot survive on YouTube, unless you're like Mr. Beast or a very few other creators. And the reason big production companies like Mythical or Smosh can survive on YouTube is because they're putting out videos EVERY DAY pretty much, they keep the average costs down. And even Mythical has talked about how their views have plateaued, Rhett and Link have talked repeatedly about how they're constantly trying new things and can't really pursue them if they're not a massive hit because they're beholden to only having resources for things that won't lose them money. It took them twenty years to get to a place where they could finally say, "Fuck it, we're doing what we want, because we're secure enough to take the hit, if it comes to that." Watcher in contrast is making more high level production shows, a lot of research into a single episode (rather than something that can be used for multiple episodes), expensive location shoots, etc. And so I think they looked to Dropout as a business model that might work for them. But the thing is that I'm not sure they have a strong enough roster to pull it off. Puppet History and Ghost Files are both hits, but I'm not sure any shows that aren't centered on Ryan and Shane have ever really taken off? Maybe Worth It or Dish Granted? Meanwhile, Dropout has the whole D20 lineup and Game Changer is a huge hit (also possibly Make Some Noise?)(I'm judging by how many shows I see cross my dash, which may not be the best metric, tbf) but they have a huge cast to work with and their model relies heavily on how much of the D20 stuff they put out in volume. So, I get why Watcher did this, in some ways, I kind of agree that it might have been the only move for them if they wanted to do this long-term. And I think it's important to them that, the whole reason they left Buzzfeed was because they wanted to do their own stuff, their own passion projects, rather than just what Buzzfeed deemed a viral hit. And their YouTube shows do mean being beholden to advertisers and only focusing on what will be as big a hit as possible, which is exactly what they wanted to get away from. I'm just not sure it'll work because they can't put out enough content that enough people would want to pay for. I kinda wish they'd gone the Mythical route instead, where they put up the behind the scenes stuff and special series on their own site and had tiers of membership for people who wanted to access them, while keeping the main shows on YouTube. (But I guess that's basically what they were doing with the Patreon exclusive videos and it must not have been a big enough draw to keep going the way they did.) I think they probably felt like this was the only route forward for them long-term, that it was either this or they would have to dissolve the company, but I'm just not sure I believe that it can work. I love the shows, but I'm not getting a subscription service for a roster of shows where I watch like three of the shows.

#lumi.txt #watcher

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hetalianhistorian · 7 months

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Do you have a Funimation subscription? If so, I need YOUR help!

For the past two weeks or so, there has been news going around that Funimation will be merging with Crunchyroll on April 2nd.

What does this have to do with Hetalia? The entirety of Hetalia is already available through Crunchyroll (albeit, with the episodes are out of order) EXCEPT for the Paint It White! movie and the extras for Hetalia. The Paint It White movie is at least still available for physical purchase, however it is the extras I have the most concern about.

The Funimation dub can be considered important to Hetalian history and culture due to how much influence it had over the western fanbase. These extras serves as a time capsule for when Hetalia was at its peak within the west and provides behind-the-scenes insight to the dub voice actors.

I am not sure if it will be 100% guaranteed that these extras will be transferred to Crunchyroll. Especially since I have sent Funimation an email (left) and this is what they've responded with (right):

So, that information is not too helpful. Aren't the extras provided within the DVDs? As someone who owns the physical copies of seasons 1-6: Yes! But do they have all of the extras? No.

The DVDs do include the commentaries, outtakes, and interviews, but it seems that the Funimation page has exclusive stuff like World Buffet, panel footage, fan appreciation cards, and more.

I cannot do this on my own because while I do have a Funimation account, unfortunately nowadays, when you attempt to purchase a subscription, it will only redirect to the Crunchyroll website. Hence, I am asking the fanbase to please contact me if you are someone or know somebody with an ongoing Funimation subscription. The goal is that we can work together to guarantee the preservation of ALL of these extras! You can reach out to me through the following methods: Email: [email protected] Discord: hetalianhistorian Twitter: @HetaHistorian Reddit: u/HetalianHistorian And of course through here, on Tumblr. If you can, please reblog and share to spread the word! I'll be open for any questions or clarifications! Thanks so much! Hetalian Historian

#hetalia #aph hetalia #hws hetalia #aph #hws #ヘタリア #hetalia news #miscellaneous news #my art #hws america #aph america

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professorcalculusstanaccount · 2 years

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Time for a pretty obscure character, it’s Miss Martine! In the Rodier version of Alph-Art everyone is incredibly 70s, while I love 70s fashion I thought I’d do my own design of her that’s rooted in the 30s. I was very much inspired by Miss Lemon from ITV’s Poirot.

Tintin absolutely needs some female friends, and friends that are more his age. I can imagine Martine, Chang and Tintin forming a chaotic trio and tearing up Brussels!

Martine is left in a predicament after her former employer was murdered. The case of his death may have been solved and her name may have been cleared, but she is now left in unemployment during an economic depression.

She reluctantly goes to Tintin for help; things are a little awkward as he previously turned her down when she asked him out at the end of the last case. At Marlinspike she meets Chang who is just moving into his room, and she bumps into Ramo Nash, an artist who worked with the art gallery she was formerly employed at. Nash has been secretly seeing Captain Haddock so has been around Marlinspike more frequently.

Nash informs her of a new exhibition he’s working on at the Museum of Art and History and suggests she applies to work there as a curator. Chang helps break the awkward tension, leaving Martine intrigued about Tintin’s friend from Shanghai.

Martine decides to follow Nash’s advice and applies for work at the museum. Chang and Tintin tag along as Tintin wants to show Chang around the city. Before the interview Martine has a panic attack - Chang manages to calm her down and gives her encouragement. She later gets the job and quickly forms a friendship with Chang, the two often going out in the evening to dance at local jazz bars and dance halls.

In between cases the three of them meet up to hang out. Tintin isn’t used to spending time with his peers so is a little socially awkward. He also still feels guilty for accusing Martine of murdering her former employee, as well as for not reciprocating any feelings for her.

To smooth things out and to thank Chang for his help Martine decides to invite them to the museum’s archive for a behind-the-scenes tour, before Chang is due to return to Shanghai to see his family for the Lunar New Year. Chang’s excitement quickly turns cold when he sees artefacts that have been stolen through colonial force. He quietly laments to Tintin, who impulsively decides to steal an ancient Chinese whistle to return it to its place of origin.

The museum descends into chaos. Nash’s exhibition is cancelled. There is a huge police investigation. Martine is a prime suspect yet again. Tintin is, suspiciously, missing. She and Chang work together to track him down to clear her name. Rather conveniently, Tintin turns up in China having “retrieved” the missing whistle, but when she inspects it closely she can tell it’s a fake. She confronts Tintin about this, but Tintin tells her if it becomes known the real whistle is gone she may lose her job. Martine is horrified at his betrayal.

She decides to stay quiet but cuts ties with Tintin. She remains friends with Chang but warns him to be careful, and not to get too close to Tintin or his work.

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plutoslvr · 1 year

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Okay so in my last Kevin post, I mentioned I have analysis' on how Kevin isn't a coward and how his trauma still affects him and you guys wanted to read it so here!

Why Kevin Day Isn’t a Coward:

Essentially this comes down to 3 specific points in the fandom and even in the books since people are very adamant about the whole coward thing. The two things that people (in book and fandom-wise) use to argue that Kevin is a coward are:

Kevin is still afraid/ doesn’t stand up to Riko

That he left Jean behind in the nest.

Starting off with the first point. Kevin is still afraid and doesn’t stand up to Riko for the majority of the books. Firstly, we need to understand that Kevin has been abused from an extremely young age in the Nest and was conditioned into thinking that kind of behaviour was normal. And by that I mean specifically Riko’s abuse but before that, it was Coach Moriyama that abused both of them.

He was stuck in the Nest for over a decade where his only role was “property” the entire time. That was all he would ever be to them and additionally to that, he wasn’t even allowed to be better than Riko. His entire life from the very start has been about exy but it was only after his mothers death where it became life or death.

During tfc when Neil finds out how Kevin’s hand really broke Wymack says “But the day Kevin stops playing forever is the day he dies. He has nothing else. He wasn't raised to have anything else. Do you understand? We cannot lose to the Ravens this year. Kevin won't survive it."

He wasn’t raised to have anything else, exy is quite literally his everything, and without it, he has nothing and nobody. In this same scene, Wymack says, “Kevin doesn't talk about his time at Evermore, but I could tell it wasn't the first time Riko or Moriyama laid a hand on him. It was just the first time Kevin was smart enough to pack his bags and walk away.”

We never find out in detail what exactly happened to Kevin in the Nest but in TRK when Neil goes there we can see how deluded and obsessed Riko is with Kevin.

Neil moved up alongside him and regretted it almost immediately. Postcards of faraway cities both foreign and domestic were taped to the walls. Beneath each one were scraps of paper. Kevin's now-familiar scrawl listed dates and explanations for the travels. Most of them were games. Some indicated photo shoots and interviews. Books lined the shelves built into the headboard and Neil knew from skimming the spines they were Kevin's. Kevin was majoring in history for reasons Neil couldn't understand; these dry titles were the sorts of things he would find fascinating. It gave Neil chills to see his space preserved like this. It was like Kevin had gone out on an errand, not that he'd transferred to another team entirely.

Riko is so sure that Kevin is going to come back to him because he’s instituted such fear into him, he doesn’t think Kevin has the strength to stand up to him. Which he does, but people don’t seem to realise you can’t undo over a decade's worth of trauma overnight.

Anyway, during Neil’s time in the Nest, he’s treated very similarly to how Kevin would be considering he was in his place but also not as harsh because they had to send Neil back to the Foxes inevitably.

"I am going to love hurting you," Riko said, "like I loved hurting Kevin."

What follows this is Riko tying Neil down and torturing him with a switchblade. By the time Neil leaves the Nest he doesn’t remember anything from the experience- he was so traumatised by it that he doesn’t remember it at all. (It also kinda sucks how Neil gets more sympathy for being in the nest for 2 weeks than Kev did for being there for over a decade.)

Putting this into perspective, Kevin went through that for so much longer and doesn’t get nearly enough of the same sympathy Neil did. Neil returned and Kevin got punched for letting him go even though he tried persuading Neil not to. Kevin has always had Neil’s best interest at heart.

Kevin shook his head and bulled on when Neil started to argue. "The master wants to salvage you. He's going to sign you to the Raven lineup in spring. So long as you keep quiet and keep your head down he won't tell the main family he's found you." "I'm not a Raven," Neil said. "I never will be." "Then run," Kevin insisted, low and frantic. "It's the only way you'll survive."

Kevin was willing to sacrifice the only chance he had to prove his autonomy to the Moriyamas if it meant Neil would be safe. Without Neil, they wouldn’t have enough players to qualify and they wouldn’t be able to play at all. (Again: “But the day Kevin stops playing forever is the day he dies. He has nothing else. He wasn't raised to have anything else. Do you understand? We cannot lose to the Ravens this year. Kevin won't survive it.")

Not to mention the whole “Kevin was silent for an endless minute, then said, "You should be Court." It was barely a whisper, but it cut Neil to the bone. It was a resentful goodbye to the bright future Kevin had wanted for Neil. Kevin recruited Neil because he believed in Neil's potential. He brought him to the Foxes intending to make a star athlete out of him. Despite his condescending attitude and his dismissals of Neil's best efforts Kevin honestly expected Neil to make the national team after graduation.

And even after that, he promised to teach Neil, because at the end of the day, Neil was still Neil and he never gave up on him once.

And Neil understood that being on the run for 8 years was more preferable to the Nest.

“But all Neil had to do was look at Kevin to know he would have hated that life

too.”

Sorry I kinda went off track there anyway we can also see how much Riko’s presence still affects Kevin especially in scenes like the Kathy Ferdinand show.

“Any animosity Neil felt toward Kevin for forcing him onto this show evaporated. He couldn't be angry when Riko was here, not when Riko was to Kevin what Neil's father was to him. Petty anger had nothing on this full-fledged terror.”

Obviously, we all know what a dickhead Neil’s dad was to him so Neil comparing the fear of his father being similar to Kevin’s fear of Riko is so important because it just puts into perspective how afraid Kevin is here face-to-face with his abuser the first time since said abuser permanently disabled him.

But what I don’t think is that Kevin has been standing upto Riko since the start because right after this when they were backstage, Kevin physically stopped Riko from hurting Neil even if it meant getting hurt by Riko again.

A black look twisted Riko's expression into something ugly and unrecognizable. He reached for Neil, but Kevin caught his arm to stop him. Riko slammed his elbow back into Kevin's face without missing a beat.

This scene is probably the best to describe how downright afraid Kevin is of Riko but there are others when Kevin has multiple panic attacks at just the thought of Riko or being in the same vicinity as him and rightfully so! Riko abused him, manipulated him and then took away the only thing he had. And Kevin was just forced to think this was okay.

And a lot of characters and fans see his fear as cowardice instead of a normal trauma response. This is also because Neil tends to speak out more against Riko than Kevin (You know I get it…) but unlike Neil, Kevin has had direct repercussions towards him for the “mistake” of talking back to Riko which of course makes him hesitant.

He knows the Moriyamas could drag him back at any moment and he's terrified of that happening.

Which leads to the second bit of “Kevin doesn’t stand up to Riko.” when many times, he has.

The most prominent example is in TRK, just after the foxes lost their first match to the ravens.

“You have fallen so far, Kevin. You should have stayed down and saved us the trouble of forcing you back to your knees." "I'm satisfied," Kevin said. It was the last response any of the Foxes expected from him. They forgot about Riko in favor of gaping at Kevin. "Not with their score or performance, but with their spirit. I was right. There's more than enough here for me to work with."

Kevin chose the foxes over the ravens- over Riko. He doesn’t allow their loss to become something Riko can use against him but instead something to affirm his current standing with them. This is also the first game Andrew played without his meds meaning he’s crashed by the end of it.

Kevin distracted the Ravens from Andrew's unsteadiness by facing them.

Kevin willingly turned to talk to his ex-abuser and his team if it meant Andrew wouldn’t be under fire. Most people only see Kevin and Andrew as Andrew protecting Kevin but Kevin protected Andrew just as much.

And of course we have the whole tattoo removal and the last exy match against the foxes but I need everyone to understand that those are so so so important. Kevin spent the entire series save the last quarter of the last book viewing himself as Riko’s property. Riko refers to him as such and even without Riko near him, his control is still strong over Kevin.

So Kevin removing his tattoo and replacing it with something with a higher hierarchical structure than Riko’s status as king is so detrimental, it’s a turning point for him because he’s viewing himself as his own person now. And Kevin scoring the winning goal brings us full circle because the last time he did that with Riko, he ended up disabled and shunned.

This brings me to my second point about Kevin running away from the nest. Alot of people see Kevin escpaing from the nest and leaving behind Jean as an act of cowardice. This bit gets a bit complicated because in no way shape or form am I trying to compare trauma’s or anything like that.

But to continue on. The ravens had a very strict policy that we got to see during Neil's experience one of which being that no matter how injured they were, they were still expected to show up to practice. The more mistakes they made the more punishment they'd find themselves in. Not showing was practically a death wish.

Now Kevin having his hand fucking broken would mean thay either he doesn't practise and get punished or practise with his fucked up hand and further damage it. If he stayed I wholeheartedly believe he would've died.

He ran away to save his life and that will never be cowardice not once. He didn't go to Wymack immediately when he found out because he knew what kind of target he'd paint on Wymacks back.

"He was trying to protect him," Neil said. "If Coach knew Kevin was his son, he'd have tried to take him from Edgar Allan." Nicky grimaced. "They'd have never let Kevin go."

He only left when he had no other option. He had nothing left, the one thing he did have was taken away from him, he had no purpose and for once Riko didn't care enough about him to pay attention. And he used that to run.

Leaving Jean behind was something he always regretted, but it was a game of survival. Jean was a gift to the Moriyamas, he was also property to them and couldn't leave. And if the roles were reversed I strongly believe Jean would've done the same thing.

Also Kevin finds a place for him layer with the trojans because he knew that being a fox wouldn't be good for him.

"He isn't safe with us," Kevin said. "I won't give him false hope."

Staying in the nest would've been suicide for Kevin. He's one of the biggest victims in the series but nobody talks about it enough I fear and there's so much to learn about him via context clues etc.

And the saddest thing in my opinion is that Kevin knew was it was like to be loved, he was raised by his mother for a few years before going to the Moriyamas.

ANYWAY to conclude, I suck at essays and I hope I've worded everything well and what I'm trying to say gets across. Kevin is not a coward, never has been a coward and never will be. He's survived through such a damaging and abusive environment only to get moved to a separate environment where everyone just ridicules his defense tactics and he has no real sense of support.

His reasons for what he does always stems from the fact the he doesn't want to go back to being under Riko and Coach Moriyamas "care" and that he's afraid. And most of the time it's things he can't shake from the nest.

Like when he pushes the foxes its so they're always at their best and so none of them get hurt or punished for mistakes. He pushed himself the hardest because he doesn't want to directly affect his teammates.

Or the celebrity persona he was forced to develop.

Or how he makes sure everyone is staying healthy and that they don't force themselves to play when sick or injured because he knows what it's like to be forced to play like that day after day.

AND IVE GONE OFF COURSE AGAIN yeah I kinda mashed together both analysis' of how Kevin's trauma from the nest affects him and how he's not a coward into one thing AND THIS IS SUPER LONG so if ur still here thank you very much for reading I really hope this makes sense

#kevin days defense lawyer right here #this is the longest thing ive ever posted on tumblr #aftg #kevin day #aftg kevin #neil josten #aftg neil #andrew minyard #matt boyd #aftg series #aftg andrew #andriel #kandreil #kevneil #kandrew #david wymack #riko moriyama #FUCK HIM #jean moreau

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jgracie · 5 months

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OFF TO THE RACES — PJO/HOO + F1 TEAMS

masterlist | rules

↳ part 1!

an u can tell i tried to make all of these dramatic cz if ur an f1 fan you'll know how MESSY that sport is LMAO

MERCEDES’ DRIVER LINEUP CONSISTS OF . . .

OO1 — NICO DI ANGELO

the di angelo name has been one that's been plastered on f1 headlines since the beginning of time, and nico is no exception! despite many people sending him hate for being in the sport through nepotism, di angelo ignores their words and simply continues to prove them wrong, coming from behind other drivers when they'd least expect it and swiftly taking their spots on the grid. with a new addition to mercedes, talk has been going around about exactly how much say di angelo has in who his teammate is...

OO2 — HAZEL LEVESQUE

quiet and elusive hazel levesque seemingly appeared out of nowhere, immediately being signed by mercedes - no questions asked. when people went digging for her career history, nothing was found. when people asked her predecessor what had happened, nothing was said. this isn't to say she's a bad driver - in fact, it's quite the opposite! levesque easily challenges all the currently reigning drivers for their spot on that podium, even her teammate and brother— whoops, didn't mean to let that slip!

ASTON MARTIN’S DRIVER LINEUP CONSISTS OF . . .

OO1 — FRANK ZHANG

to both people in the industry and fans of formula one, frank zhang seemed to be nothing more than a hopeless case - always at the very back of the grid and barely managing to score any points throughout the season. however, a certain someone at aston martin saw a bright future for him, which is what landed him a seat at the luxurious team. now, he's finally getting the reins of formula one! we believe zhang is definitely a name to keep an eye out for in the very foreseeable future

OO2 — REYNA AVILA RAMIREZ ARELLANO

poor miss arellano was at golden boy grace's side during the entirety of her formula one career, the two red bull drivers dominating the championship and constantly having flawless 1-2 finishes no matter the track or weather. however, something seems to have happened behind the scenes during the winter break - something which bumped her down to aston martin, with annabeth chase taking her spot on grace's side. she refuses to speak about it, but we'll get it out of her eventually!

WILLIAMS’ DRIVER LINEUP CONSISTS OF . . .

OO1 — PIPER MCLEAN

the daughter of aston martin team principal tristan mclean certainly made a bold choice for her first year in formula one. we all know that tristan adores his daughter, but if that's true, why would she choose to go to a team as unstable as williams? when our insiders asked mr mclean, a dark look washed over his face and he walked away, not uttering a single word. uh oh, it seems like daddy's dearest princess has gone rogue!

OO2 — WILLIAM "WILL" SOLACE

to replace percy jackson, williams decided to sign their namesake - will solace. after winning the formula two championship three years ago, will went to indycar as there were no seats left for him at formula one. however, we all know how magnetic the fantasy of being called an f1 champion is to racers, so it's no surprise he came running back! he and his teammate, mclean, seem to be making a pretty good team, but can they single-handedly bring williams a constructor's championship win?

#nico di angelo x reader #hazel levesque x reader #frank zhang x reader #reyna arellano x reader #reyna avila ramírez arellano x reader #piper mclean x reader #will solace x reader #pjo x reader #f1 x pjo #cynwrites

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morning-star-joy · 1 year

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CONGRATS ON 700 DARLING GIRL 🫶🏻 still no idea why you don’t have 7,000 because you should!

may I request the kissing injuries/scars for the Drabble…. And if no-one else has requested it and I can be greedy because I love filth can I also request one with the breeding kink. Because reasons. 👀

ILY 🧡

Charlie my love, thank you for sending in this request!! I REALLY wanted to do this one, and my muse really got flowing for an important scene between them that I could write now that the epilogue is up. Breeding kink has been written and is here

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, established relationship, set in the ASHWAH universe

Warnings: Mention of past suicide attempt (Joel's lore), Hurt/Comfort, lots of love and vulnerability

Wordcount: 1.3k

Part of my 700 follower celebration (or 900 now because we just hit that!! THANK YOU!!!) If you want to send in a request for a drabble, check out the prompt list here! I'll be accepting requests up until July 3rd!

“What about this one?”

You brushed your fingers across the jagged scar on his abdomen, right below the thinner scars from the time Joel was attacked by Stalkers on patrol, the injury you had treated when you found him bleeding, struggling to patch himself up in his bathroom.

“Newer,” Joel murmured, his fingers trailing up and down your naked spine in a lazy manner as you brushed your hands over his body, exploring every mark and asking for the story behind each. “Got it after we left Jackson last winter.”

Propping yourself up on your elbow more, you glanced from the healed scar up towards his face, seeing how he gazed down at you with an unabashed fondness that made you feel a warmth spread from your head to your toes.

A warmth you now knew the exact cause of.

“Really?” you asked quietly, glancing back down towards the scar as you ran your fingers over it again, watching the muscles of his stomach jump below your fingers, a small smile dancing on your lips at his body’s subsconscious reaction to your soft touch. “It looks deeper.”

“It was,” Joel sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, squeezing your shoulder gently before dragging his fingers up and down your skin there. “When we got to the University of Colorado, we ran into some raiders. One of them got me real good.”

A frown crossed your face as you rolled over onto your stomach, pulling yourself up so you could meet Joel’s eyes directly from above him, showing that you were open and invested in what he had to say.

Joel met your gaze, huffing out another quiet sigh as he softened at the sincerity in your gaze. “It was bad. Would’ve died if it wasn’t for Ellie. I told her to go back to Jackson, but she…”

You felt an ache in your chest, and you brought your hand up, stroking his cheek gently as you could detect the weight to what he was and wasn’t saying.

“Of course she stayed,” you whispered, leaning down, brushing your nose against his cheek, kissing the skin there and murmuring, “She loves you.”

Joel made a small sound, gruff as he avoided your gaze when you pulled back up to look at him.

It made you sigh, leaning down to press kisses on his other cheek and up his face, wanting to shower him with how much love you had for him.

The more you and Joel became completely intertwined, the more you began to notice hints of the vast vulnerability that laid below his stoic surface. You had known for a long time he carried the weight of the world he had lost on his shoulders, but you hadn’t realized how much it affected the way he lived and loved until you had admitted that love you shared for each other.

You paused as your lips brushed against his temple, lips grazing the old scar there—the most faded one on his body, and you knew by the way he had never mentioned it that it held a story deeper than the rest.

“This one?”

When he stiffened below you at the question, you knew you were right in your theory. This scar contained a great emotional history, and you pressed another gentle kiss along the length of it before pulling back, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone before dancing your fingertips down along his nose, catching his eye as you whispered, “You don’t have to tell me, love. It’s okay.”

Joel’s eyes wavered, the depth of them softening at the affectionate name that left your lips, understanding the weight behind the simple word you called him.

It wasn’t a name that you called him often, as being in love was completely new to you. But you were working on being vulnerable, on opening yourself up and trusting him in this new direction of your journey together.

And in that moment, it was that fact that made Joel confess the story to you.

You stayed quiet as he recounted the days after Sarah’s death, how he had felt lost with no direction, no meaning left to continue to go on. Tears sprang to your eyes as he whispered to you what he had tried to do, what he hadn’t been able to, and you cupped his cheek in your hand, glancing between his eyes as he softly confessed to trying to take his own life twenty years ago.

Unable to find the words in that moment, you leaned back down, pressing your lips over the scar again in a rapid succession of soft, chaste kisses before leaning down to capture his lips in yours. Gentle and barely there, and then more firm, pouring your unwavering loyalty and love into the kiss, trying to show him how thankful you were that he had flinched, and was here with you today.

When you leaned back and rested your forehead against his, Joel kept his eyes screwed shut for a moment, brows knotted together as he sighed quietly, trying to reign in his emotions before he opened his eyes and reached a hand up to stroke the small scar on your cheek with his thumb.

“How about you, mi luna?” he whispered, and your eyelashes fluttered, sighing softly at the name that conveyed his utter love and devotion for you with the question. “This one?”

“Seattle,” you said quietly, pressing a kiss to the crease between his brow, willing it to smooth out and only pulling back to lay beside him when it did. “My father was pretty high up in the WLF, and I fought in it with him. So did my sister.”

Joel frowned, glancing over your face as he did the math in his mind before asking, “How old were you?”

“Me? I started when I was about 16 or 17,” you muttered, watching as that crease deepened between Joel’s brow again, and you subconsciously reached a thumb up to try and smooth it out before adding quietly, “Little Star was 13 when she started later.”

“Jesus,” Joel whispered, letting out a harsh breath as he frowned deeply. “This happened because of that?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, shrugging as he cupped your cheek in his hand, tracing the pattern of that small scar on your cheek again and again, a habit he had gotten into months ago—memorizing the paths of your scars, and a part of you suspected he did it to remind himself that you were there with him. “It was a fight with FEDRA that went bad fast. I was too close to a makeshift bomb from one of our guys. Luckily I was far enough out of the blast zone to really get hit, but glass went flying and, well…”

You gestured vaguely towards the scar that Joel was still tracing with his thumb, and his frown deepened, a glimmer of anger in his eyes for a moment before it disappeared, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to that scar in a gentle kiss that made your eyes flutter shut, a soft sigh escaping your mouth that he chased with a press of his own there.

Joel kissed you slowly, languidly, and you returned it happily, lips meeting his again and again before he pulled back to rest his forehead against your own.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to that scar, and you smiled gently, leaning up to press your own kiss to the temple on his scar again before pulling back to wrap your arms around him, snuggling against his chest as he held you closely in return.

“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling against his skin as you let out a sigh of happiness, of content. “Me, too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller series #joel miller drabble #doni 700 celebration #a stranger's heart series

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ateez-himari · 3 months

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PRAY : HIDDEN FOOTAGE

A more private aspect of the relationship between the industry's producing sibling duo as camera follows them behind the scenes.

June 26, 2024 (6:30PM)

CONTENT WARNING: This article contains mentions of parental loss following a car collision, discussions of mental health, allusions to suicidal tendencies and talk of an unhealthy childhood. Please read at your own discretion.

To celebrate the one year anniversary of an emotional collaboration that also served as the very first solo release of a talented vocalist, BANGTANTV in partnership with KQ ENTERTAINMENT uploaded a two part documentary showcasing the process behind the single 'Pray' by Agust D and Himari. Throughout the years people have come to build these siblings an untouchable reputation through the title 'Hands of Midas', in reference to their incredible musical genius, so it was only natural for netizens to be interested in their work behind the scenes. However, it seems as though they received much more than they had bargained for when heartbreaking stories of the past were recalled by the artists to explain the mindset of each track.

In order to help viewers understand why the pair resemble each other in such a striking manner despite being linked legally rather than through blood, a short rundown of their history was given in the first few minutes. Prior to the tragic accident both families were very close friends and due to this bond the rapper has been in his younger sister's life since her birth, later playing a huge role in raising her following the adoption. While their parents were not detached from their lives, they did work a lot, and with the eldest living his own life it was left to the remaining brothers to take care of her. The girl's biological sibling however was dealing with a lot of physical as well as mental difficulties at the time, which meant that he was in no state to carry out such a huge responsibility.

'I was left with a lot of injuries from the accident so I couldn't move much at the time, and the grief put me in a really dark situation. Because she was still very young she couldn't deal with it properly and was always happy instead...so I couldn't find a way to approach her to take care of her.' Hanzo said in an interview with Cosmopolitan Korea

This paved the way into the conversation that took place while each wrote their respective verses in the side track 'Snooze', and here is what we now know. The middle brother took ever chance available to come home to her, yet these moments were unfortunately few and far between, leaving the family's youngest with no other option than to grow up quickly in order to adjust to an independent lifestyle in the midst of grief. In the refrain along with the first verse Agust D talks about acknowledging life's hardships, some originating from the music industry, all the while reassuring whoever is listening that it is alright to show weakness and lean on somebody.

'They're [the lyrics] what I would have wanted to tell you back then but looking at them makes me realize how much I missed.' Yoongi admitted. 'I regret it a lot you know, seeing that the more I came home, the quicker you seemed to grow up. You saw a lot of things because of me, all of them I wish to take back.'

The last piece of this statement was lightly touched upon in later footage, revealing that the young woman was made to take care of her brother rather often due to him being stuck in a very dark place at the time, leaving him too mentally distant to raise her, with certain anecdotes suggesting she might have been witness to events that were traumatizing for a mere child. While no speculations will be made on this very delicate matter, it is clear that something much deeper has bonded these siblings together, as the man who very rarely cries on camera could be seen tearing up holding his sister.

'When I listened to The Last, I remember throwing up afterwards.' Himari recalled. 'The emotions were just too much and I think it was my body's way of dealing with them, since I never truly got closure. I was terrified back then, having to pull you out this often, but I don't blame you for it. If anything I feel relieved that someone was there at the time, even if it had to be me.'

With the discussion that followed being extremely personal we have decided not to summarize it, so for those who wish to listen, it can be found at the 25 minute mark in the first part of the documentary which can be found on BANGTANTV. We advise viewers to watch at their own discretion as it contains mentions of attempted suicide and deep childhood trauma, as well as heavy mental distress. What can be said in short however is that we now understand why the maknae tends to act childishly, as there was never truly a time in the two year period preceding training that she had the opportunity to live as one.

While devastating aspects of their past were unraveled, most pieces of footage filmed on personal cameras managed to heal viewers' hearts as they showed their healed relationship, from playing around while creating to going out to cafes or PC bangs. Multiple instances of the young woman falling asleep on the couch in her brother's studio have been reposted on social media, as it led to the rapper caring for her as one would a child, demonstrating the amount of attentiveness he holds towards her.

'I raised her, so there's something more in how I see her.' He said in episode 20 of Suchwita [with Taemin] 'It's not a parental link or anything...but it feels like it sometimes.'

This nearly fatherly care for his sister was demonstrated through an anecdote in which her difficulties navigating the music industry with a near deaf ear were talked about, leading viewers to learn that due to the family's low financial status they were unable to afford a hearing aid for their youngest, seeing as they already had to pay the hospital fees. The girl being fully aware of their predicament had never mentioned need for it, yet Yoongi rapidly caught on to the struggles this new impairment brought into her daily life, such as extreme fatigue along with splitting headaches and so he set aside money following every paycheck earned during his delivery job.

'The song that fits us the most...' Himari pondered over the question asked in a solo segment. 'Maybe Mockingbird by Eminem, my brother used to play it a lot at home. There's a lot of regrets in the song, a lot of promises about protection and sacrifices just to make her [his daughter] life better. It was the same with us in a sense...I guess a good example is that back then he needed money but he saved so much just to buy me a hearing aid.'

That is not to say the youngest does not care for her brother to the same extent, as she would reassure the older artist by holding his hands when he talked about something especially painful, even wiping fallen tears whilst talking about how great a man he is. Food ordered for him would very quickly fill the studio and although claiming to have eaten well, the rapper finished every single dish, even accepting the soft pink blankets draped over him when producing sessions lasted into late at night. While not providing the same way as he had during their childhood, the vocalist shows her care through small actions that prove the amount of attention truly on him at all times.

Their heavy history is easily discernable from the way these artists embrace one another, as there never seems to have been a singular loose hug, never a moment where they did not treasure the simple fact of each other's presence. Although the rapper usually rejects skinship in front of cameras, he could be seen seeking it out throughout the documentary, always asking for a small kiss on the cheek whenever the youngest arrived or left. Sharp eyed netizens also noticed how the senior fidgeted with his rings when listening to the vulnerable lyrics written by his sister, while she on the other hand tended to zone out as if attempting to repress certain emotions.

Peace can be found through these pieces of media as the siblings have stated that despite these setbacks they have managed to find their own balance, and are now going about life with fresh scars rather than carrying old wounds. Strangely enough, having these many instances of them laughing with one another, both fandoms noticed that their smiles are practically identical which had led to sweet speculations about fate meaning for them to be one another's healing.

National Soccer Team Captain, Min Hanzo, made several appearances

With the relationship between the vocalist and her biological brother being kept away from the spotlight, it has left many wondering about whether they were truly close or if something was brewing behind closed doors that neither wished to address. This worry was however rapidly dismissed, as several videos of them inserted throughout this documentary reassured fans that the siblings' bond is even stronger than they had claimed it to be. While every single piece of footage was heart warming enough to spark conversations it was not what caught the attention of sharp eyed netizens, but rather a singular clip filmed by the rapper in which they could be seen playing basketball.

The reason behind the influx of speculative threads on the X platform was the fact that their scars from the accident seemed to complete one another's, as where the idol was marked on the right, her brother's much more prominent ones were on the left. The most popular hypothesis is that the older man would have allegedly pulled Himari into his chest in order to protect her from the impact, which seems rather convincing due to the fact that the difference in their injuries' visibility suggests he had suffered the brunt of the impact. Amateur detectives on social media also recalled that the soccer player had made a few references to the aftermath of this tragedy in the past, in which he recalls being impaired to the point of barely being able to move for days while his sister seemed to be relatively healthier.

Making History

While life has not favored these artists in their younger years, their current standing at the top of the industry reflects the diligence in the siblings' work ethic as several pieces of history have been written through their groups despite the incredible amount of challenges they were made to overcome. The senior idols are well recognized for having paved the way for future generations while their juniors are slowly catching up to their achievements, having become the first male group to perform at Coachella and the first k-pop act to grace the stage of Mawazine, the second biggest music festival.

'At times, staying in this career was terrifying.' Himari had said rather hesitantly. 'On more than one occasion I felt like it was the end, like the exhaustion was genuinely going to kill me the second I closed my eyes. So much went on behind the scenes, we would go from one schedule to another without rest and using oxygen masks to avoid fainting became common.'

Much more weight than simply performing rests on their shoulders as both hold the position of producer, alongside several members, which demands that they constantly create new melodies in the midst of their already overwhelming schedules. Their skills have no grounds to be questioned as other well renowned idols have turned to them for their own releases, the most blatant examples being soloist IU with Yoongi and SHINee member Taemin with Himari.

Closing Statement

This documentary was heart wrenching to say the least yet placed much more meaning on the single's tracks with clear connections to dark aspects of their past now being unlocked to the public, serving as a form of closure for these siblings as well. They have truly shown that trauma does not make up the entirety of an individual as both are now known for their intoxicating happiness, giving the audience a valuable lesson about mental health and healing.

REMINDER to keep streaming Golden Hour Part : 1 by ATEEZ and support Jimin's upcoming comeback 'Muse' releasing on July 19 at 1PM (KST) along with 'Type 1' photobook by V releasing on July 9.

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A/N; Please keep in mind that while Yoongi has talked about mental health in the past, this is not an accurate representation of what he has lived as this is purely a work of fiction!

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #himarinews♡#himarilore♡

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scribblingapparition · 2 years

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El Dios de la Brisa (K'uk'ulkan x Reader) (2)

Summary: You are a passionate Marine Biologist who has lived in the Yucatan Peninsula for some time now. After an encountered with a fabled god more information is learned about your past. The discoveries you make continue to unravel the world around you. This is only the beginning.

[Word count: 4,937]

☀

For the past couple of nights you were having the same recurring dream.

Jumbled fragmented memories tried their best to depict a clear enough picture that you could make sense of. All you could remember from your dreams was that you were awakened by the sound of a haunting song that put you in a trance; the melody led you to the beach where the villagers stood like statues, unaffected by the song, watching as you walked into the sea covered in heads peeking out of the water. They covered the entire bay. There seemed to be more eyes watching you from the water than there were people in Mérida.

You tried and tried but you could not remember what happened before it led you to such a scene or what happened after you walked into the ocean and the water rose over your head leading you into the darkness.

You did remember, however, that before the waves took a hold of you completely you looked up to see the mighty shadow of the king that flew imposingly overhead. His features were covered in darkness but he was outlined by the moon. In his hand was his spear, glistening with power. Though you could not see his expression you could read his satisfaction as the waves claimed you as their own.

Correction, as he claimed you for himself.

K'uk'ulkan.

It was no surprise to see him in your dreams. He had easily conquered your thoughts even during the day.

There were those that claimed dreams held meanings. You were never one to buy into it too much given that most of your dreams normally didn’t make any sense and it was logical that someone like him spent so much time in your thoughts that he could pop up in a dream or two. But you were not one to have the same dream over and over. Especially not the same exact dream, while only being able to remember the same exact things despite the fact your gut feeling told you there was a lot happening before and after the scene you could remember.

☀

“¿Crees que los sueños tienen significado?”

(Do you believe dreams have meaning?)

You had been invited by a friend you had made in the village, Clara and her husband Jorge, to a fishing trip. It felt so nice to leave the bay and enjoy the open ocean while someone else was manning the boat. Together, you and Clara worked on preparing the nets you would be fishing with. They had been one of the first to approach you when you had arrived at the village and though you felt familiar to their culture thanks to your mentor sharing it with you they were the two you learned from the most.

The Maya had never disappeared despite what the history books liked to say. Their descendants were still living in their ancestral lands proudly keeping their traditions alive among the strong colonial and Spanish influence left behind. You had seen this long before you met the god their pyramid was dedicated to and you felt unbelievably fortunate to learn directly from them.

“Claro que si. Todos los sueños tienen significado, incluso los que crees que no. Mi gente cree firmemente en el hecho que los sueños son algo que tu alma puede ver venir.” She said kindly, moving from working on the net to preparing the bait that would be used. “Has tenido algo en mente por días, me di cuenta. De niños, los mayores siempre nos animaban a hablar de nuestros sueños. Nos ayudaron a interpretarlos.”

(I sure do. All dreams have meaning, even the ones you think don't. My people strongly believe in the fact that dreams are something that your soul can see coming. You've had something on your mind for days, I could tell. As kids we are always encouraged by the elders to talk about our dreams. They helped us interpret them.)

You took a look at Jorge before turning to her, putting your net down and leaning your elbows on your knees. “¿Puedes ayudarme a interpretar el mío?”

(Could you help me interpret mine?)

You felt nervous talking about it.

You knew she could tell.

Growing up without anyone meant not trusting those around you with anything you considered personal. You had never had a sibling to talk about your dreams and aspirations to. You didn’t have a mother or a father to go to for comfort after a nightmare. It had taken you decades to find a friend you could fully trust and she was gone. You kept your personal life a secret from everyone, even the friends you were with now did not know much about who you truly were. You talked to everyone in the village; they knew you were a hard worker, they knew you loved the ocean, they knew you to be a respectful yet stubborn individual, they knew you to be closed off.

Yet they still welcomed you like Altagracia had.

Perhaps they all shared that gift of being able to look further beyond what they simply saw in front of them.

It wasn’t only talking about yourself that made you nervous, it was also the subject. You had given him your word that you would not reveal his existence to anyone. Ever. He had been generous, trusting you enough to take your word as truth and allowed you once again to step into his oceans. And now you were going to speak about him in his waters. You feared betraying him especially when it wasn’t your intention. Some secrets that were better off staying as secrets. You knew this.

But you were having trouble processing all of this alone.

“Agradezco su confianza en mí. Si me lo permite, sería un honor escucharlo.”

(I appreciate your trust in me. If you would allow me, I would be honored to listen.)

You trusted your instincts. Clara had never once given you a reason to doubt her.

Framing it as a dream and only a dream, you began to explain what you could remember.

Her hands moved purposefully as she separated the bait and prepared the hooks, eyes meeting yours to confirm that she was listening as she worked yet keeping them away to help calm your nervousness. It was not the first time that outsiders were enchanted by the ocean. The gods of her people were present, they had always been, and those who sought after them with hate in their hearts were struck down by their fury. You had not appeared to have come to their village with any of those intentions. You had come here to heal even if you had not known it at the time.

But it seemed that there was more at work here than healing.

You felt better after you were done though your hands gripped onto the net tightly. The ocean did not change around you. The sun continued to shine brightly, the ocean continued to be fairly calm and docile, the wind had not gotten any stronger in anger. You had described the king as a serpent rather than a man; detailing the colorful feathers of his headpiece to be the feathers covering the body of the winding beast that slithered through the air as if it were creating the ocean breeze itself.

Clara placed the last of the hooks in their bin and took a moment to think before facing you. There was a change in her kind eyes; the softness was still there but there was also apprehension. The serpent god was many things; a bringer of peace and founder of Chichen Itza, the one who was there at the beginning of time and put forth order when helping create all things, the one who fiercely protected those who inhabited the lands and dwelled in the depths of the ocean. His powers over creation also allowed him to destroy anything he pleased as there was nothing in the world that wouldn’t submit to his might.

“Es recurrente.” You spoke to fill the silence more than anything, her dark eyes pierced your own and it pushed you to speak without meaning to. “Cada noche…nada cambia. ¿Deberia estar preocupada?”

(It's recurring. Every night nothing about it…changes. Should I be worried?)

She took your hand in hers. “Tu alma siempre ha pertenecido al océano. No debes temerlo en sueños o incluso ahora. El dios que estás viendo es poderoso. Creo que este sueño es una representación de ti alcanzando un nuevo capítulo en tu vida. El agua es el elemento del cambio y K'uk'ulkan representa tu vida llevándote al océano para ser renovada. Le k'áak'náabo' a k'aaba'.”

(Your soul has always belonged to the ocean. You shouldn't fear it in dreams or even now. The god you are seeing is powerful. I believe this dream is a representation of you reaching a new chapter in your life. Water is the element of change and K'uk'ulkan represents your life leading you to the ocean to be made new. The sea calls to you.)

The moment she was done speaking, after speaking in her native tongue, the boat jumped, hitting a rather rough wave causing everything to be thrown around. You quickly moved to grab the hooks to distract yourself from how fast your heart was beating. You heard Clara ask her husband what had happened and he quickly replied that it was nothing but a wave and that he could see the other boats lowering their anchors. You thanked her quickly and nodded when she smiled and moved to help her husband but you could not forget the cloud of darkness over her eyes when you mentioned seeing the serpent god.

You trusted Clara but now you weren’t sure if her thoughts on your dream were true or if she had spun it into a positive tale for your sake.

Your soul belonged to the ocean and your life was changing. That had been her interpretation. In your dream, you had felt his satisfaction in him luring you into the water. What did it mean? Why did you feel it in your bones that this was more important than just any dream?

“¿Lista para pescar?” Jorge grinned as he clapped his hands moving to help you arrange the nets. He was the most energetic man you had ever met, always smiling and joking, radiating pure eagerness no matter what he was doing. “Es diferente a lo que estás acostumbrada. ¿Estás segura de que estás lista?”

(Ready to fish? It’s different from what you’re used to. Are you sure you’re ready?)

“¿Lista? Estuve lista toda la mañana!” You grinned, focusing on the task at hand and leaving your dream omens for another time.

(Ready? I’ve been ready all morning!)

“¡Entonces vamos! ¡Tu primera lección de pesca como lo hace mi gente!”

(Then let’s go! Your first lesson on fishing, how my people do it!)

☀

You couldn’t sleep.

Despite the long day out at sea fishing among the villagers, suffering the glare of the sun and feeling the exhaustion after a long day of work, the comfort of your bed offered no help to silence your thoughts.

The bottom of your dress brushed atop the sand as you wandered forward. You had been walking for quite some time. It didn’t worry you that it was after midnight and that you were walking along a new path away from the bay because above the treetops proudly stood a pyramid that would always serve as a beacon home.

Home.

You still weren’t used to that word. You don’t think you’ve said it out loud in a really long time despite feeling it in your heart. It just never felt right. When would it feel right? When you followed your dream and followed an unknown and powerful god into the water? That would never happen. You would never really have a home and that was okay. Not everyone needed one. Nomads existed in every culture, across all of time, as proof that not everyone felt the same desire to lay down their roots and stay in one place forever.

Because that was your desire, right? You didn’t want to stay. Or did you?

The frustration inside of you came from never allowing yourself to stay in one place for too long and now that you have you began to doubt everything. That much you knew. But then there was the unknown element of the absolutely alluring and dangerous man you had met that asked the same questions that made you run your entire life.

Answers to those questions only ever led to paths filled with pain.

That’s why you had to run.

That’s why you were taught to run.

Heading out from between the trees, you walked towards a new section of the beach you haven't been to before. This one was rocky. There were multiple different rock formations alongside the water and it created perfect pools for little creatures to live in. You immediately headed over to see if you could find a hermit crab or a starfish. You loved those little guys.

“I really should’ve brought a flashlight,” You muttered as you looked around the ponds, lifting your dress so it wouldn’t get too wet. “I gotta come back in the daytime and take some notes.”

A noise from behind you caught your attention.

Your eyes narrowed as you turned around and scanned the area. It was a bird. It had to be a bird. But after midnight? That wasn’t common. Yet there was no denying what you were hearing, the consistently singular note chirping of a bird that you could not see. Stepping down from an elevated rock pool, you turned a bit towards the moonlight and that’s when you saw it.

A Resplendent Quetzal.

A smile formed on your lips as you watched the brightly colored bird fly overhead, circling you as it called out into the night, filling the silence and joining the sounds of the waves. It was beautiful! They were known for their stunning green, red, and blue feathers that looked iridescent in the light.

The resplendent quetzal was sacred to the Maya.

Venerated as the god of the air, symbol of goodness and light, it was their feathers and colors that were attributed to…

K'uk'ulkan.

Green, red, and blue feathers adorned the body of the great serpent as it glided through the air; a god of the wind, sharing its glory and beauty just as this bird was doing with you. Another one of his symbols appeared before you. Was this a message? No way was it a coincidence.

You moved closer to the beach keeping your eyes focused on the bird until something else caught your eye.

Being pushed into the sand by the waves was your mask.

Your diving mask.

The one you had lost when he left you inside the pyramid. It was as if the ocean was presenting it to you. Immediately, you looked towards the ocean. There was nothing out of place in the dark water but you did not let that fool you. You continued to look out as you moved to grab the mask from the sand. A part of you was beyond delighted to have it back! Diving had not been the same without it and you had not enjoyed having to go back to using oxygen tanks that limited your time in the water. Another part of you was apprehensive, not worried per say, just wondering why you kept being the target of the feathered serpent’s generosity.

The mask had been modified.

The edges were lined with a green stone (or was it a gem?). Jade, maybe? Jade held a huge significance in Mayan culture, it was more important than gold; often being associated with water, the stone symbolized life and death. You remember Altagracia once explaining this to you on a trip in China, as the stone held a great importance in their culture too. There were pearls scattered along it as well, different sizes and shapes. The inside remained the same, mostly, aside from it now having a mouth piece that was meant to cover the area from your nose to your chin. You had no idea what it was made of or what it was meant to do but the shock had not worn off yet.

You had your mask back.

He’d given it back to you.

“A satal. Ba'ale' le k'áak'náabo' a k'aaba'.”

(You are lost. But the sea calls to you.)

His appearance did not surprise you. All of the elements leading to him making his presence known were there. Your eyes stayed attached to your mask, running your fingers along the new designs as he landed on the soft sand in front of you. When your eyes did look up you took the opportunity to really see the being before you.

He was beautiful.

The water that ran down his neck and shoulders enhanced the rich color of his skin. He was in his element; iridescent as the feathers of the quetzal, sacred. There was not a man more confident than the king before you who’s dark eyes held yours with a yearning to discover the secrets in you. His neck was adorned with gold and pearls and there was what seemed to be armor on his arms and legs made of the same things. He was enchanting as a siren. It didn’t need to be said and according to your subconscious that had created your dreams, you had associated him with one.

“Tech le k'áak'náabo'.” You replied quickly after he raised a brow at your staring, which didn’t do much to save you from embarrassment but you could see that your response surprised him.

(You are the sea.)

He had not been expecting you to answer him back in his language much less understand what he was saying but you were a quick study. Not only that those had been the exact same words Clara had told you about your dreams. Had he heard that conversation?

“Tene' tuukulo'oba' le k'áak'náabo' bey iik', ba'ale' ma' ya'ab ba'ax a u taasik waye'.”

(I am both the sea and the air but I am not what has brought you here.)

“That’s when you lost me. I’m not fluent in your language. Nowhere near it, actually.”

“I am surprised you know what little you do.”

“I tend to learn quickly, given if the subject interests me.” You don’t know why you said it like that and to save yourself from any further embarrassment, you kept talking. “I didn’t expect to see this again. The mask. I thought I had dropped it last time we met, well, not last time exactly. The time before that. After the cave. Oh! The turtle is doing really well, by the way. There’s a small facility in Izamal and they’ve been doing a great job. They don’t have many animals currently so she’s been the star of the show.”

He extended out his hand and instinctively you placed whatever you had in your hands into his. He examined your mask for a moment before removing the mouth piece that had been attached by his people and held it up for you.

“Should the hard surface ever be compromised, this will allow you to breathe underneath the water until you are able to reach the surface.” He explained before he placed it back inside and it seemed to readily attach itself. “I am glad to hear that the creature is recovering.”

“I was wondering what that was for. Thank you.”

“The markings around it will give you safe passage should you be at depths where my people may see you.”

“That is very generous. Truly. Dios bo’otik.”

(Thank you)

You had nothing to give and even if you did you doubt that there was anything you could find that would please a man like him. He had given away too much information about his kingdom, aside from that fact that it did exist and it was as vast as the oceans, but just by how he looks you knew that there was little he could want.

The oceans had always held riches and they were all his.

Perhaps that is why you gestured to the place beside you on the beach where you sat. You did not have riches or great knowledge to share but you could guess that a man who took care of an entire empire rarely got a moment of peace. You had the sense that you were right when he wordlessly took his place next to you.

He glanced at the oceans sparkling in delight at having his attention while you looked around for a moment, noticing the silence signaling the bird’s departure. For a moment you did consider if you had even truly seen it. He made no mention of it.

“There are not many that inhabit this area. The closest village still sits a good distance away from the pyramid’s beaches.” He observed.

“My, um, mentor had a research cabin built not far from the bay. That’s where I spend my time. The locals are cautious enough to build away. I’m sure it would make storm season just that more difficult to deal with if they were this close to the water.”

They were cautious but not only because of the storms. There were many stories that this beach held. Stories written by the Spanish of a demon that came from the water and cursed the land as hellfire rained down and destroyed what they had built. Stories from the villagers of an angry god that protected the area, that flew above the waters and feared nothing.

“Do you not fear the storms?”

“There are other things to worry about.” You surprised yourself with your honestly and made a point to evade his gaze when he turned to look at you.

“What do you fear?”

You kept your expression neutral, a mask you wore that was well practiced. It concealed your thoughts well enough. You were sure that he was not one of them; he clearly wasn’t from your world but there was nothing guaranteeing that it was safe to speak to him. You didn’t know him well enough. You didn’t know him at all.

He read you easily.

“My people were from these lands. They also did not fear the storms. They worshiped the god of the rain knowing that prosperity and new life would come after each strike of the clouds that would produce the rain and the thunder.”

“They were brave.”

“To put your trust in something unknown to you is a symbol of bravery.” His eyes met yours this time and though his tone was purely conversational, the meaning did not go over your head. “This world has forced many to hide who they are. It has taken their identities from them, made them ashamed of who they are. My people were freed of that fate. We were given something much greater this land.”

“I can only imagine what it looks like.” Your smile was soft but full of wonder. “I used to dream of finding Atlantis as a kid. In one of the homes I was in I found a map of the world in the basement. I spent so many days that summer reading all I could about it at the library and then running home and circling where I thought it was. A world away from this one? What I wouldn’t have given to just…disappear.”

“My city is called Talokan.”

“Talokan.” You carefully copied his pronunciation and felt proud when he nodded, pleased. “Do you spend a lot of time up here? For someone who lives at the bottom of the ocean you seem to have a pretty good understanding of what happens on the land.”

“It would be unwise of me not to know the ways your world changes. Many things tend to stay the same from my experience. It is key to notice what developments there are.” He continued. “I am from the sea as I am from here. My mother was from the surface world. These lands were hers. The god of rain had spoken to our shaman and through his blessing we were able to discover a way to live within the water. I was the first child born to my people. I am a mutant.”

Your reaction had given him just what he wanted.

It was a confirmation of what he had theorized from the moment he began to understand your connection to his world.

“Don’t say that!” Your words were harsh and your eyes were wide, standing to look around you as if you had forgotten it was the middle of the night and no one but the god shared the beach with you.

Everything told you to run.

You had not said, thought, or even acknowledged the existence of that word in years when you thought you had finally gotten away from it. You had outrun it. You had traveled the world, hopping from place to place, leaving few tracks and enjoying the safety of the oceans for years.

So many years.

Anger and fear had kept you alive for a long time.

You were not going to consider how your actions were disrespectful. It didn’t matter. He had been kind only to take advantage of your curiosity. You could handle the questioning, you could handle the looks of suspicion, all of that you could remain neutral to but that word, that damned word, would always find you.

He stood and watched as you walked closer to the water and threw the mask into the waves. He could see how angry you were at your own reaction, at the fact you left your emotions slip. You were choosing to stand your ground and defend your reaction. He could see that when you turned to him, eyes raging, dress caught in the breeze, moonlight forming a halo around you; you were a sight to behold.

“You can take your mask and stay the hell away from me.” Your eyes were watering and that only added to your fury.

“They have made you run for so long.”

He took a step closer to you.

He was being cautious not because he feared he would be harmed but because there was something growing inside of him from the first time he met you. He couldn’t explain what it was. It went beyond you being a mutant. That wasn’t important. He wanted you to understand that you did not have to live in that fear that others forced you to feel because you were different.

Something deep within him was answering to the pull that brought him to you.

You held a hand in front of you. “Stay away from me!”

The king stood still as the once gentle waves rushed forward. It wasn’t an attack and he would not label it as one but the water had moved forward aggressively only to pool at his feet before sinking into the sand and retreating. You seemed shocked by this too; quickly lowering your hand and turning to look at the pools you had been exploring that were now filled to the brim with water.

A little crab had been displaced from his pool by the wave and was making his way back.

He did not move as you quickly made your way back to the tree line and disappeared. Your expression had gone from anger, to shock, to fear at the mention of a single word. There was no more proof needed. It had not been a coincidence that night and it had not been your instincts either. The water did not only call to you but it answered your own call for protection, even if it was just a gentle push back; it had answered your call against him.

Your mask lay at his feet. Once again brought back to the shore.

He took it in his hands and admired the craftsmanship of his people. He knew you had liked it too, he had seen you admiring it. The inscription on the side held a message. He doubted you understood it. Perhaps one day he would tell you or your curiosity would lead you to the answer.

☀

The beach was soon left empty.

It’s two inhabitants returning to their homes each with a chest filled with swirling emotions.

The god bowed his head in greeting to his people as he walked into his hut and laid the siibil (gift) he had made for you on the table that sat in the middle of the room. He had enjoyed the moment of peace at your side. But there was no time to focus on what was but rather on what will be. Tomorrow’s sun will rise and there is no guarantee you would be seen again. But there was a change in the wind and something told him, deep down, that you would be in Zama for many more sunrises.

He took the shell that had his paints and turned to the wall behind him.

This was only the beginning.

☀

(Author's Note: I did take inspiration from the movie and I've been doing quite a bit of research to try and be as respectful as possible! I had the reader wandering to water as Queen Ramonda expressed that's how she found peace (I thought it would be interesting to have the reader find the opposite of peace doing the same thing), Zama is where the pyramid is located (which is modern day Tulum outside of the MCU), and the Maya did use nets to fish and you could see the Talokanil using nets a lot in that glorious scene where Shuri got a tour in the movie. Next Chapter should be up in a week! Thank you for all your support and for reading!)

{Taglist: @lockleysgrl @violet-19999 @kawaiikibi @lilyevans1 @rando-norse @lwqfhp @bookfrog242 @cypherpt5fttaehyung @tahiraseoti @damnzelsoul @user12875671}

(A/N: Also, someone had asked me why I use the sun as my little dividers! The Maya saw the sun as a symbol of a new age; K'uk'ulkan brought the sun to his people, signaling that new age! Thought it would be nice to include it in!)

#namor #namor x reader #namor x you #namor fanfiction #black panther wakanda forever #tenoch huerta #marvel cinematic universe #L'iik'ik Talokan #El Dios de la Brisa #mcu fanfiction #Talokan

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