they are sexually mature at ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS OLD.
their (live!) young gestate for. wait for it. eight to eighteen (??) YEARS. can have up to 10 at a time. good grief.
longest lifespan of any vertebrate, up to five hundred years
toxic flesh
has giant eyes but is usually blind because of a weird little crustacean that's evolved to live on and eat their eyes. this doesn't seem to bother them much.
lives in deep cold water and has the lowest swim speed and tail-beat frequency for its size across all fish species. just generally lives life in extreme slow motion
largest genome of any shark
eats everything including moose and polar bears
ma'am you are delightfully strange and I'm privileged to share a planet with you
they are sexually mature at ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY YEARS OLD.
their (live!) young gestate for. wait for it. eight to eighteen (??) YEARS. can have up to 10 at a time. good grief.
longest lifespan of any vertebrate, up to five hundred years
toxic flesh
has giant eyes but is usually blind because of a weird little crustacean that's evolved to live on and eat their eyes. this doesn't seem to bother them much.
lives in deep cold water and has the lowest swim speed and tail-beat frequency for its size across all fish species. just generally lives life in extreme slow motion
largest genome of any shark
eats everything including moose and polar bears
ma'am you are delightfully strange and I'm privileged to share a planet with you
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Warnings: +18, NSFW , canon targcest, yearning aemond, somewhat innocent reader, male masturbation, wet dreams, making out, grinding, handjob, female masturbation, bathtub sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, aftercare with soft aemond and creampie.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Summary: During your visit in Kings Landing, your uncle's eye cannot leave your body, all tension comes to a head when you interrupt him masturbating while bathing.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ Word count: 4.9K
The sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a golden-pink haze over the scattered buildings of King’s Landing.
The heat of the day, once stifling and sharp, mellowed into a tepid warmth that clung to the stone streets and rooftops.
From the bay, sea winds rolled inland, cool and briny, teasing through the open archways of the Red Keep.
In the high halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, the air held the faint linger of roast meat and summerwine, now grown stale with tension.
It was the hour of the bat, when shadows stretched long and torchlight flickered in golden sconces.
Supper had almost come to a close, mercifully. What should have been a warm family gathering was nothing more than a tightly choreographed farce. Each smile was painted on, every word a cut disguised as civility.
Your jaw still ached from how tightly you'd been clenching it.
King Viserys had sat at the head of the table, trying, desperately, to pretend that all was well. But the rot in the family tree was painfully obvious.
Your mother, seated with the stiffness of a queen forced to endure, barely looked up from her plate.
Across from you sat your uncle, Aemond, so still he might’ve been carved from ice, save for the occasional flick of his eye toward you. You couldn’t have been put in a worse seat.
Forced to face the boy you were taught to hate, now a man.
You didn’t look at him. Not directly. But you felt him. That infuriating calm. That knowing smirk that twitched at the corner of his mouth every time you bit your tongue.
The silent dare in the single eye that always found yours. He sought a fight, any excuse to break you, or your brothers. However, you didn’t.
Determined to stay polite, to please the king. And follow the ladylike, dutiful script your mother had perfectly laid out for you. No, your uncle would not win tonight. It would only give him a reason to hurt your brothers.
Still, every time you met his- eye. Something other than hate lurked beneath the surface.
He had very much become a man, no longer the little boy that hid in the library to avoid his brother and nephews.
You cursed yourself for letting your mind drift, wondering if he had grown the same lust and appetite as his brother. Just as another depraved thought started to form once more, his eye fell on you again.
Uncontrollable butterflies swirled in your belly, you felt entranced underneath his gaze. Heat spreads over your skin like fire. The air becoming too thick to swallow.
Quickly averting your eyes to the full plate in front of you, his gaze did not leave your body.
It would be impossible for him to read your mind, though you felt like he had. Like he knew exactly what you were thinking.
And you couldn’t help but wonder if he had such thoughts about you as well. The idea made you blush.
You yourself had grown to become a woman, a princess. Many letters had fallen in your mothers lap, lords across the realm begging for your hand, your Valyrian blood.
Upon your arrival that early afternoon, having been welcomed by your family, and seeing your uncle for the first time after all those years, it was entirely a coincidence that you had chosen a more...mature dress for the evening.
Maybe some part of you felt tempted to entice him, to gain his interest and attention. If you had been successful you could not tell, as such was his stoic and cold demeanour.
Aemond would have never shown you how much you had affected him. How his fingers gripped his cup of wine with such strength, it almost broke under his grasp.
How with every shift in his seat, he could not tear his eyes away from your chest.
Anger rose within him every time you fluttered your innocent eyes at him. You somehow turned the man into a boy again, making him feel flustered and riled up from the smallest movements.
He hated himself for it, all these years he had perfected his training, his mastery over Vhagar, his High Valyrian. In every aspect his mother had finally seen him as perfect.
No one doubted the one-eyed prince any longer.
Even his brother had left him alone, and now here you were. His little niece, ready to ruin everything he had worked so hard on.
With the way your breath hitched when his gaze fell on you, how your lips brushed the cup in your hand when you took a sip.
Every time you leaned forward to pick at your plate, he got a perfect view of your tits.
It all distracted him from his initial plan. He was so eager to get a chance at putting the strong boys in their place, but their big sister had wrecked it all.
Aemond hadn’t felt this relieved in a long time, at last supper was over and everyone was allowed to retire to their chambers. His eyes kept following your form, even when he tried so hard to pull away.
He didn’t like it, didn’t like how you made him feel. Vulnerable. Weak. Restless.
He was glad when you both left the room and parted ways. Aemond headed towards his bedchamber, his own space where nobody could touch him, where nobody looked at him.
It was too early to head out yet, too busy in the streets. His brother too sober.
So he waited, and waited, until he was sure everyone was asleep. And swiftly but quietly disappeared into the darkness of the night.
He had to satiate this hunger inside him, though when he arrived at madam Sylvi’s alcove, nothing she tried relieved him of his yearning.
His niece didn’t fare much better.
Sleep did not come easily.
You tossed and turned beneath the silk sheets, your body restless, your mind unable to quiet.
When slumber finally claimed you, it was not the peaceful kind- it was the kind that teased and tormented. Dreams haunted you, vivid and visceral.
Aemond’s hands, those long, veined hands, touched your skin like they owned it. His smirk, sharp and maddening, tugged at your mind.
His silver hair, like your own, fell across his cheekbones as he leaned closer. You dreamed of his mouth, possessive and greedy against yours, of his breath mixing with yours in the dark.
You woke with a gasp, skin damp with sweat, sheets twisted around your legs. The sky outside your windows had only just begun to lighten, but the rising heat of the summer sun left no room for comfort.
Sleep would not return.
With a sigh, you slipped from the bed and called for your maids. There was no use lingering in your chambers, not when your thoughts were already betraying you.
They dressed you in cool silks, braided your hair, and left you to your own devices.
The Red Keep was still, hushed in the early hour, the courtiers slow to rise. That silence emboldened you.
You mounted your dragon and soared into the skies, chasing the winds and shaking the memory of him from your bones, if only for a little while.
By the time you returned, sweat clung to your back beneath your bodice, but the wildness in your chest had calmed. A tray of fruit and bread awaited you in your chambers, alongside a steaming bath drawn with herbs and rose petals.
You slipped into it gratefully, eyes fluttering shut, Aemond’s face still lingering somewhere behind your lids.
The morning passed quietly, and though the solitude had been welcome at first, by afternoon, it began to press in. You needed distraction, conversation, company, anything to ground you back into the present.
So you wandered into the gardens, where the ladies of court had already taken refuge from the heat. You joined them, half-listening as they prattled on about fabrics and feasts, until the topic turned.
They spoke of you now.
Of how many suitors had come to Dragonstone. Of how each lord had attempted, and failed, to win your favor.
You offered little in return, but the laughter among them grew, amused by your restraint, impressed by your influence.
As the sun began to dip low once more, you were summoned for supper.
Dread curled low in your stomach.
You weren’t sure if you could bear sitting across from Aemond again, not with the memories of your dream still simmering beneath your skin.
The way he had looked at you last night, as though he could see straight through you. As though he wanted to.
You told yourself you didn’t crave his approval.
But you were lying.
You didn’t want his kindness, or his favor. You wanted his attention. His focus. His desire. And after the night you’d spent tangled in arousing dreams, you could no longer pretend otherwise.
What you didn’t know was that elsewhere in the Red Keep, your name was already being whispered in the hallways.
He moved through the halls with practiced grace, his steps measured, until the fluttering whispers of ladies caught his ear. They didn’t see him approaching- at least not until it was too late.
“…they say yet another lord rode to Dragonstone last month. Thought she’d say yes, but she sent him off with barely a word-”
“He wasn’t the first, and he won’t be the last. She’s turning them all down.”
“She must be waiting for someone better…”
Their giggles turned to stunned silence as Aemond passed them, his lone eye fixed straight ahead. But they had said enough.
His jaw clenched.
It shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t care.
But he did.
Anger coiled in his gut- jealousy, too, bitter and hot. The idea of those men- weak, simpering lords, daring to think they had a claim to you made his blood run cold.
Yet there was a strange satisfaction as well.
You hadn’t accepted any of them.
He tried to push the thoughts away, bury them beneath cold logic. But the moment he nearly collided with you in the corridor on your way to supper, all sense fled.
You froze for a heartbeat as your eyes locked.
Your breath caught.
His did too.
Without a word, he stepped back and gestured for you to pass first, as etiquette demanded. His head dipped slightly, but his gaze lingered long after you moved by.
When he entered the dining hall, he chose a seat farther from yours this time, perhaps in an effort to compose himself. Distance would quiet the storm inside him, or so he hoped.
But tonight, it was you who stared.
He felt your gaze as surely as if your hands were on him. You tried to be subtle, sipping your wine and lowering your lashes, but he caught you, again and again.
And when he did, your cheeks turned pink.
It filled him with something strange, something powerful.
Desire, yes.
But more than that, confidence.
The ladies of court often stared at him too, but when he met their eyes, they averted theirs in fear. His scar, his silence, his reputation… they saw him as something to avoid.
But you?
You looked at him like you wanted to know what lay beneath the cold.
It made him feel good, desired even.
He wanted to chase that feeling, perhaps he could make you feel good too.
That night, when the doors of his chamber closed behind him. A bath was waiting for him. Though there were no servants.
He preferred to bathe alone, he didn’t need some stupid girls trembling hands to try to wash his hair.
He could do it himself.
Aemond was glad he was alone, for when he had rid himself of his clothes and stepped into the searing bath, his cock began to swell.
A sigh escaped his lips when he let himself fully sink into the water. When he closed his single eye, all he could see was you. Images of you filled his mind, they started off innocent, your smile, your sultry eyes, your silver locks.
Then he thought about how you smelled, how warm your skin would be. But then it turned darker.
He thought about kissing your plump lips, about ripping that stupid dress open and freeing your tits. To suck and nip at them until you whined for him.
Subconsciously, his hand that rested beside him moments before, trailed up his thigh, teasing himself until he softly traced the length of his cock.
A groan left Aemond as his hand wrapped around his shaft, embarrassment crept up on him as he allowed these thoughts of you to drive him to touch himself.
However, all shame left him once he began to tug at the soft skin. The hot water wrapped a cloak of steam around him, the water rippling with each movement of his hand.
A silent moan dragged out of him when he cupped his stones under the water.
Aemond planted his feet on the bottom of the copper bath as his knees rose above the water, his lust clouding his mind when he bucked up his hips in pleasure.
Just these depraved fantasies of you turned him on more than what madam Sylvi tried to do.
His cock ached for release, his skin damp with sweat and water combined. His one eye closed as the pleasure of his own hand consumed him.
As he pumped his cock faster, his lips parted and soft groans left his lips.
Flashes of your bare tits and your wet cunt wrapped around him drove him to the edge of release, precum releasing into the water as Aemond massaged his stones firmer.
His hand and specifically his thumb focusing on his tip until his balls drew tight against his body- he was about to cum when a loud knock pulled him right out of it.
Of course now was the moment someone needed something of him, when he was fucking his fist to the thought of his niece.
Aemond, assuming it was Criston Cole as it usually was, called them in.
“Come.”
He called out from behind the screen that protected his naked body from the door. Though he made no move to get out of the bath to get dressed, his cock was still rock hard. He planned to get Cole out quickly so he could resume his- activities.
He couldn’t see who entered the room, but the soft and graceful footsteps did not match the weight of the armour of Cole. His mother perhaps? What awful timing she would have.
“Uncle?”
Aemond’s heart sank and he froze in the bath, gaze falling on his cock. Of all people to catch him in his depravity, it was her.
“Niece.” He stated, not wanting to tempt her to step beyond the screen. The thin feeble thing that shielded her innocent eyes from his naked frame.
“I did not realise you were... indisposed. Perhaps I’ll come back later-”
He stopped you before you could turn back.
“Perhaps not. Why are you here? What could you possibly need of me at this hour?” His words silenced you for a while. He almost thought you had left.
“In truth... I do not know. It was stupid of me to come here, my apologies. I’ll leave at once.” You said hastily before turning around, you were close to the door until Aemond’s low voice halted your movements once more.
“Wait- Don’t go.” He regretted it the moment the words left his lips.
Still, you obeyed. You turned back towards the screen, waiting to be commanded by him once more.
“Yes?” Your sweet honeyed voice echoed through his chambers.
“Come here.” Aemond called out, his voice raspy with lust.
Your lips parted in shock, you knew he was taking a bath, the steam filling the room gave it away immediately.
“Uncle-” You protested weakly.
“Now.” He ordered, all restraint flew out the window upon hearing you call him that. A reminder of what you were to him, his sweet innocent niece.
He could hear your dull footsteps approach the screen, hesitant, you walked around it. Your breath hitched once your eyes met his. You couldn’t see him...completely, but he was obviously bare.
Aemond’s soft breaths summoned you closer, not too close but close enough to where he could make out your now heavy breaths.
“Come closer.” The words left him before he could even think about it.
Without thinking yourself, your feet pulled you towards his bathing form. You swallowed the nerves in your throat once your eyes ‘accidently’ fell on his hard cock. However you were still out of his reach.
“Gūrogon hen aōha grēza.” Take off your dress.
Aemond was testing you, but when your hands started to undo the laces on the back of your bodice, he held back a groan.
His eyes followed your hands as you undid all the laces and knots that held your dress together.
When you let the loosened dress fall to the floor, your thin undergarments were the only thing still shielding you from your uncle.
He didn’t have to say anything, for your hands were already pulling those off too. Once you were fully naked, shoes and tights forgotten on the stone floor as well, Aemond licked his lips.
His cock throbbed upon seeing your bare body.
“Renigon aōla.” Touch yourself. He groaned, his heavy lidded eyes focusing on your cunt.
You frowned in confusion, touch yourself how? When you made no move, Aemond feared he had gone too far, but once he noticed your confusion, he understood.
“Kesan urnēptre ao, māzigon kesīr.” I will show you, come here.
Your bare feet carried you towards his outstretched hand. Upon placing your hand in his, he rose from the tub, but made no move to get out.
Your eyes flicked nervously to his, Aemond held your gaze as he lowered his head.
Before you could register what he was about to do, his lips pressed against yours. A foreign hunger consumed you as his lips touched yours, you gasped against his mouth.
When you felt his hand on your cheek, still warm and wet from the water, you sighed into the kiss.
But Aemond had no patience for soft loving kisses. His tongue prodded your lips open before licking desperately into your mouth. You moaned, gaining him more access as you let him devour you.
A warm sticky wetness gathered between your thighs, his lips alone spread fire through your body. When he was forced to breathe, you parted.
His eye met yours, and this new look in his eye, unknown to you, made you shudder.
His chest was now heaving, his skin glistening with sweat and his purple eye had turned black with desire. His hand, once on your cheek, made its way down your jaw, towards your breast, giving it a firm squeeze, eliciting a groan from him.
“Fuck.” Aemond sighed, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. If he wasn’t so pent up right now, he would’ve stopped, and saved you both the disgrace, but he couldn’t.
His hand trailed lower, over your belly, stopping right above your cunt.
“Ivestragon nyke jaelā nyke, ivestragon nyke jaelā aōha Kepus.” Tell me you want me, tell me you want your uncle. Aemond whispered lowly.
You nodded, your chest rising with each breath. You closed your eyes, anticipating his touch. When you still didn’t feel him, your eyes snapped open.
“Jaelan naejot rȳbagon vestrā ziry.” I want to hear you say it.
“Kostilus renigon nyke Kepus.” Please touch me uncle. You almost whined- begged for him to touch you, even though it was foreign to you, your cunt ached.
That drove him insane, the way your sweet voice told him you wanted him in your mother tongue, his cock twitched. Two of his fingers darted out to glide between your slick folds, it immediately pulled a moan from you.
Aemond almost gasped upon feeling the wetness between your thighs, he knew you would probably be sensitive- but for you to be this wet already? You must want him as bad as he wants you.
When one of his fingers found your clit, he circled it, drawing more soft gasps and pleads from your lips.
“Sir ao.” Now you.
Aemond used all his restraint to pull back, and lower himself in the bath again.
You almost cried when his fingers left you, but when you saw him lean back in the bath again, his hand starting to stroke teasingly along his cock, your own hand made its way down your body.
Remembering what Aemond had just taught you, you used your own two fingers to repeat what he did. Letting them glide through your folds first, before touching your clit.
Your eyes never left his as you put on a show for him, now understanding what he wants.
Aemond now jerked his cock firmer, trying to almost match your movements. Both of your heavy breaths and moans filled the room, urging you both closer to release.
Your fingers worked faster when Aemond pumped his own cock faster.
Holding each other's gaze, you were the first to come. Your thighs clenched shut with your hand still between them. Your other hand shot up to clamp over your mouth as you cried out Aemond’s name.
Aemond halted his movements and watched with parted lips as your legs trembled. Your first orgasm hitting you hard. Your knees almost buckled underneath you from the sheer force of your pleasure. When your climax ebbed away, you opened your eyes again.
Aemond summoned you back to him. When he was able to reach you, he helped you in the bath. Once you stood over his lap, both feet on either side of him, he helped you lower down onto his lap.
You couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him again, Aemond gasped in surprise as you hungrily moved your lips against his. When you moved a bit too close to his now flushed and angry cock, he groaned into the kiss.
He felt your arms wrap around his neck, his own hands holding onto your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Aemond almost came- just from feeling your cunt press against him.
His cock so sensitive and aching from being denied to cum twice already, but Aemond knew it was worth it.
When he pulled away, his grip on your waist tightened as he used you to grind your cunt on him, moving back and forth until short waves formed in the water.
“Ao sagon ñuhon.” You're mine.
You moaned at his words. Aemond nipped at your neck before aligning his cock up with your hole. His tip first dragged through your folds before he dared nudge his dripping head inside, once he felt your walls clench around him, he paused for a moment.
Aemond looked up at you, it seemed as if you were completely out of this world. Your eyes were closed, face red and damp.
A bruise in your neck from his biting and nipping. Your hair loosely falling over your back, you were a sight for the Gods.
He kissed you fiercely before pulling you fully down, until his entire length was sheathed inside you. You whined against his lips, the stretch and fullness of him overwhelming.
When you came across his chambers this evening, having no plan about what to say to him, you did not quite imagine this.
Aemond was now the one moaning as he tried to buck up into you, the desperation to cum overpowering him.
“Fuck-” He groaned when you parted.
“H-how do I…” You whispered, a slight tremble in your voice.
“Move up and down or just hump- yes- yes- fuck like that-”
You immediately did what you were told, you wanted nothing more in this moment then to make him feel good too, to fuck him as if it was your last night alive. Using all your strength you bounced up and down on his cock.
Aemond’s strangled moans and heavy breaths spurred you on, driving you to fuck him faster, only your knees started to hurt and your thighs started to cramp.
“Uncle- help- please-” You whined as your legs started to give up. Aemond wasted no time in planting his feet on the bottom of the tub and driving his cock up into you.
The sheer force of his thrusts caused the water to spill over the sides of the tub, turning the chamber into a huge mess.
Neither you or Aemond cared, the bliss and satisfaction of each other's bodies was all that mattered.
Aemond thrived off your moans and whimpers, he knew it was all him who caused it, that no other man had ever made you feel like this.
The slapping off skin, you and your uncle’s moans and the slashing of water was sure to be heard outside, your coupling would surely be no secret.
“Fffuckk!” That was the first time Aemond had heard you cuss, and it brought a smile to his lips, spurring him on to fuck you harder.
The way you clenched around him, your moans getting higher, and your breath getting stuck in your throat- he knew you were close, he just had to push you over the edge.
He was surprised he had managed to hold off his own orgasm for this long but he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
While you held onto the sides of the tub, Aemond used one hand to hold you steady while the other sought out your bud, with a steady thumb he managed to get you gushing around him in seconds.
Crying out his name in ecstasy, you came hard around his cock.
Aemond, at this point, had reached his limit. With some final hard thrusts, his balls drew tight against his body, cock twitching as he filled you with his cum.
He released a strangled cry from his throat, letting himself get consumed by his peak.
Once the final spurts of his seed had left his body, he sagged against your shaking form. Heavy breaths were now the only thing that could be heard. The water tepid and finally calm.
What you did not entirely expect was Aemond pulling you flush against him, making you hold him as he melted into you. A satisfied sigh left his lips as his cock softened inside you. Yet he made no move to pull out.
Neither of you wanted to move.
Your limbs were tangled beneath the surface of the water, skin against skin, warmth clinging to every inch of you that had been touched, claimed.
You were both suspended in a moment outside of time, outside of duty, outside of honour. The soft drip of water from the edge of the tub was the only sound, save for your slowing breaths.
You rested your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, heart still pounding. His arms had remained tight around you, as though if he let go, even for a second, you might vanish into smoke.
Reality waited just beyond the door, and yet neither of you dared look toward it.
You wanted to stay here forever. In this hazy, sacred silence. In his hold.
You were trying not to think about what it meant, what you'd done. Not because you regretted it, but because the weight of it was too much to bear all at once.
It wasn’t just lust that had driven you into his arms. It was something deeper. Something dangerous.
“I meant it.” Aemond whispered, breaking the silence at last.
Your lashes fluttered. “Hm?”
He turned his face into the crook of your neck. His voice was low, a rumble more than a sound.
“You’re mine.”
The words sent a fresh wave of heat down your spine. You could feel the way his jaw tensed against your skin, the possessiveness simmering just beneath the surface.
Not rage, not anger- just wanting.
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him.
His violet eye met yours, burning. The sapphire gleamed faintly in the dim candlelight, and for once, there was no mask behind his expression. No cold control. Just him. Raw and open.
You only whispered, “And you’re mine.”
Something shifted in his face.
A crack in his composure, a softening that made your heart twist. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your jaw, then your cheek, then your lips- slow, reverent.
As though he was trying to memorize every part of you, just in case this moment didn’t last.
But it would. It had to.
His hand found yours beneath the water, threading his fingers between yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I won’t let them take you from me,” he murmured against your lips. “Not now.”
You nodded once, heart thundering in your chest.
You didn’t need promises. You didn’t need sweet words or vows made in the godswood.
You just needed him. The truth in his touch. The honesty in the way he looked at you now, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
you have permission to pick that 2 year old "abandoned" project back up. it's not mad at you for setting it aside. and maybe time and distance have helped ease or erase the things that made you put it down in the first place.
i started this battle jacket before i got medicated for my adhd and it's literally been hanging in my closet with the patches pinned to it for two years + a move. and now that i am medicated, i had the ability to ask myself why exactly the hand stitching was giving me such an issue to begin with, and then i was able to carry that into searching up solutions to the problem. it hurt my hands! and using an embroidery hoop, sewing with a thimble, and using pliers to pull the needle through the really thick patches solved all those problems!
and look, it's not mad at me! it's like i never abandoned it in the first place!
sorry to the crowds who are wrong, but look at this soulmatism after being taunted by each other lmao, broken-hearted doe-eyed, teary eyed darlings, i hope they are never normal about each other god bless
If there isn't a fluent speaker around to practice with regularly, it doesn't matter how many languages you make a small child study. They aren't going to speak any of them.
I can also confirm (anecdotally) that my adult students learned much quicker than any of the kids I worked with, and exponentially faster than any of the toddlers I taught.
If you want to learn a language, go learn it! You are fully capable of doing so as an adult, and you didn't miss any windows.
Not sure why it's a new trend among fic readers to assume if the fic has not been posted within the week it's inappropriate to comment on it, like the fic has to be hot out of the oven to give feedback for.
I got a comment on a fic that is less than a year old and it was mostly an apology for being a comment on an "old fic" and how late they were in commenting.
Just comment on the fic. Doesn't matter how old it is.
Commented on a fic that was completed around 8 years ago. Author responded to my comment two days later thanking me and recommended other stories I might like.
There’s no time limit for commenting or liking fics. Feed the authors. Get more fic. This is a win-win situation.
lord of the rings really was lightning in a bottle. it shouldn’t have worked but by god it did. peter jackson, who had no filmmaking education and was mostly known for making low budget splatter movies, had no business going out and changing the movie industry like that but he did. return of the king showed up at the oscars and became one of the most awarded movies of all time. to this day it holds the record for the highest clean sweep. hollywood will keep trying to recreate that magic with bigger budgets and high profile actors and they will keep failing. i look at the state of these blockbusters where everything is smoothed over by soulless cgi and actors are acting opposite tennis balls and they will never hold a candle to the pure heart and soul and craft of the lord of the rings. every single person involved in that project loved being part of it and it fucking shows. i’m so thankful the stars aligned the way they did for these movies to happen like that.
Lord of the Rings worked precisely because everyone loved the story and the work and each other. The Hobbits are actually still besties in real life, so the love between them on screen is real.
Viggo Mortensen bought and kept the horse that saves Aragorn's life. This man broke more than one finger insisting on doing real sword fights with real (unsharpened) swords.
The only kinda janky CGI in the entire movie is in there because Orlando Bloom broke a rib trying to actually jump onto a running horse and they ran out of time for him to heal and try again.
Andy Serkis scrambled around in a stream in New Zealand in winter. rather than do anything on a green screen.
Christopher Lee was Ian McKellan's real life hero. The way Gandalf felt about Saruman until his betrayal.
Ian McKellan loved the source material so much he walked around with a copy of the books on set and made script changes to quote it more often.
Peter Jackson became a director because he wanted to make Lord of the Rings. This was his childhood dream.
And most importantly, the production executives gave him a buttload of money and shut the fuck up and let him do anything he wanted with it. Which is their job. The most successful thing about Lord of the Rings is that the execs kept their mouths shut and didn't get in the way of art.
Not to hijack this excellent post, but if you want a similar experience check out the live action One Piece. It shouldn’t have worked, live action anime adaptations are notoriously bad and One Piece is even more ridiculous and over the top, but they absolutely nailed it because of the entire team’s love of the original and complete commitment to the bit.
The tone is very different from LotR, but it’s 100% earnest and hopeful with a delightful ensemble cast that are every bit as iconic as the Fellowship.
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