also we have GOT to collectively come to terms with the fact that me or any other stranger online disliking or even making fun of something you like is not saying “no fun allowed” “no one can ever enjoy this” you have simply got to grow a spine and be able to like the shit you like. you don’t even have to defend it! like 90% of the media i really enjoy is divisive and half my friends actively hate it. i really don’t give a fuck though because i like it. you can write whatever you want! you’re allowed! even if it’s MY least favorite genre or style of writing and i have active distaste for it!
woke up thinking about your fem maekar 😳 may i be bold to request a snippet perhaps...
i went looking for a snippet that was sufficiently juicy, but also wouldn't spoil anything. i eventually decided, you know what? have the whole burger <3
To fight is to live, so she fights, and lives. Leaps, whirls, sweats, sings. The blows fall like kisses, peppering her arms and legs, her chest and belly. Baelor softens his strikes; Maegelle knows he does, so she hits back harder, but she can hardly ever land one on him. He is too fast, too strong, the best warrior in all the world. Once, just once, she bulls in close, wild in her rage, and catches him in the face.
For a gut-wrenching moment, she thinks she’s broken his nose as Daemon did. But it is only a bit of blood, no more than her maidenhead had been. It trickles down to wet his lips, and Baelor touches it gingerly. “You’re strong,” he says, soft and wondrous and so, so proud. Something in her wakes at the sound, half sick and half soaring.
Baelor goes to one knee, his fingers red, and draws a careful line down her gambeson. “There,” he declares, with a smile only for her. “Your first blood.”
I love you, she thinks. It is the truth as there are seven heavens and seven hells and the two of them. It was the first truth she had ever known; the only truth that matters.
Before he can rise, she grabs her brother’s hand. Her fingers tremble in the heat of his palm, blood and sweat slick between them. We make our own life, she thinks.
“Baelor,” Maegelle begins, but every other word flees her. She fumbles for them, gripping her brother’s hand tight. “I could- I could-” She does not know what she could do. What she could be. Her head is empty, and her heart is full to bursting. “I could be yours, if you wanted.”
It is hard to imagine the children they would make together. Soft lumps of dough; hunks of clay; faceless, shapeless things. She is too young yet, but she will grow and flower and become a woman. Mother promised she would, but she cannot think of Queen Myriah, not now. “You could marry me.” Her throat closes around the words, till they’re barely a whisper. “I’ll be good for you. I promise. I’ll—”
But Baelor’s face stops her. All the pride is gone. In its place is bewildered, stricken horror. No, no, please. Please! She surges forward with all her courage. Her brother’s lips are softer than she imagined, slack under hers. She can taste the iron.
She tries to put her tongue inside, the way the old king said husbands and wives kissed, but Baelor takes her by the shoulders and pushes her firmly away. His mouth is a terrible, trembling line. “Enough.”
The courtyard heaves like a ship in a storm, and her gorge slams up against her teeth. She wants to empty her guts, wants to curl inside out, wants to sink into the dirt and stay there.
“Don’t tell Mother,” is all she can think to say. It comes out in a child’s desperate, keening whine. Queen Myriah would be so disappointed, so disgusted. She watches through a wash of tears as Baelor rises shakily to his feet.
“I won’t,” her brother promises, but he pulls his hand away, and all the warmth in the world goes with it.
Maybe Dyanna is a lady to F!Makear? F!Maekar first kiss being Dyanna, not Baelor
i actually have something weirder planned for dyanna 🤭 (or dyan, affectionately called guyanna lol). but don't worry, femkar will still be having ill-advised romantic/sexual escapades before hammeranvil widow/widower failmarriage hits.
the idea that kink is somehow safe from critique and prejudice or harm is so fucking funny. ah yes bodies, desire, and power, three things that have famously never been utilized in harmful ways. great news everyone yes we are all existing in complex systems of oppression and violence BUT!!!!!! it’s on pause when we are horny
