Horrid Fanfiction and a worse idea

Deianeira

I still can't believe we both… at the same celebration…

Captain Nymoria

Believe it, Princess. The 'Monkey' has good timing—and apparently heroic fertility.

Age

Mother-Ship says lullabies help babies grow. I made music!

Captain Nymoria

Adorable. Sit, tribal-boy; we're picking a nanny, not auditioning for choir.

Deianeira

You'll be a father soon. What… do you want them to learn first?

Age

The Golden Tribe taught by example. I'll show them how to be strong… and kind.

Captain Nymoria

Great. Lesson one: hire staff. I nominate that busty Silver-Tribe medic who keeps ogling me.

Deianeira

She faints at the sight of blood. Hardly nanny material.

Age

What's an 'ogle'? Does it taste good?

Captain Nymoria

Stick around, tribal-boy. By the time these heirs arrive, you'll know exactly what ogling… and diaper-changing… feel like.

Age

One will have your eyes, Princess… the other your smile, Queen. I see them running barefoot through starlight.

Deianeira

Age, please, you’ll jinx us with such visions…

Captain Nymoria

Let the tribal boy dream. He’s already proven good at making doubles.

Captain Nymoria

Tell me, Little Miss Royal Reserve—how exactly did ‘innocent’ you end up handcuffing me with my own captain’s insignia that night?

Deianeira

Y-you promised we would never speak of it again!

Deianeira

That was the sparkling nebula champagne talking!

Captain Nymoria

Champagne didn’t bite my collarbone, Princess. That was all crowned teeth.

Age

Golden Tribe say strong cubs come from fierce unions. I… like knowing they’ll inherit that fire.

Captain Nymoria

Hear that? Daddy approves of our after-party acrobatics.

Deianeira

I will exile myself to an asteroid…

Captain Nymoria

Royal decree: future queen mothers must confess their secret wild side at every prenatal checkup.

Deianeira

I will decree your mouth sealed, Captain!

Age

I could seal it for you… with lullaby flute?

Deianeira

There—silenced by tribal craftsmanship. Let the Invaders hear that harmony.

Captain Nymoria

Mmmph—fine, but next craving I get, I’m blaming your royal hormones, Princess.

Age

Our daughters will rule galaxies… and still fear their mothers’ glare.