#I have my own reasons why I don't ship them

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Beware Calm Waters

Summary: Aegon isn't favored by anyone in his life. And then you came along. Or the five times you picked Aegon, the one time you couldn't, and the one time he picked you. Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen/F!Reader (No Y/N) Warnings: Canon typical violence, canon typical misoginy Word Count: 10.1k A/N: No Civil War AU! This is Aegon's side story from my recent(ish) Aemond Series, As High As Honour. I don't think you need to read that to understand this. My hate of several Ironborn Houses came out in this. Sorry. Reader is slightly unhinged. My bad. Aegon is different from his show and book counterpart, ie not a rapist or a drunk, etc. Enjoy!

You loved the sea. You did. The way it smelt, the way it unceasingly battered against the shore, the way it held its secrets in the dark. All of it. Except the way it turned your stomach whenever you were aboard a ship.

And that was truly a pity because you were Ironborn.

It was laughable that you could trace your father’s bloodline back to the original Farwynd who first landed on this island and dubbed it Lonely Light and you couldn’t stomach the simple rocking of a ship for more than a few moments. But perhaps you took after your mother in that regard. She was not Ironborn—and that was something those who dwelt on Great Wyk often reminded you of. Another reason why the other Ironborn thought House Farwynd queer.

But to you it was just…your family. Your father, Sylas, was stoic in a way only Ironborn men are known to be but he delighted in his children and loved his wife, never straying. Your younger brother, Roryn, dreamed of finally taking the ship he and your father built by hand out into the Sunset Sea to add to House Farwynd’s fortune in an adventure of his own—but he had no will to pillage or take salt wives. Roryn was also the proud wielder of House Farwynd’s Valyrian Steel weapon, a falx named Dark Water. Your father had gifted it to him for his one-and-ten nameday while he had taken the Valyrian steel tipped spears your mother had given him as a wedding day present as his own weapon. And your mother, the Lady Senerra, was never fond of the harsh clothing and cruelty the Iron Islands often mistook for strength.

“Your father promised that when he brought me here I would suffer no longer the whims of lesser men,” she would say to you whenever you asked of their courtship. “And he has kept his promise. And I shall promise you the same.”

So, no. House Farwynd of Lonely Point did not keep every custom of the Iron Islands and you all were ostracized for it. The eight days’ sail from Great Wyk to Lonely Light probably kept most other houses from trying to take your lands, but House Farwynd was wealthy and that gained your family at least a small bit of favor, you supposed. That was probably why Dalton Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, had summoned House Farwynd to Pyke under the thinly made guise of duty.

“The old king Viserys is demanding closer ties to our fair isles.” Dalton’s dark eyes were alight with something you did not want to name. The young lord of the Iron Islands had always unnerved you; smile too sharp, eyes too hard. You did not trust him and you knew your father did not either. “I have no sons or daughters of my own and my other men have need of their children. From what I can tell, your children do nothing of importance on your tiny island.”

Your mother set a hand on your father’s arm, stopping his fist from curling. “House Farwynd has our own honor and duty.”

Dalton’s smirk widened. “I’m sure. But I still want one of your spawn sent before I have to deal with another raven from them.”

Your father was quiet but you saw the rhythmic clenching of his jaw, he was chewing over what he wanted to say. This was dangerous. The only time your father had nearly took up arms was when one of Dalton’s brothers had smacked your mother’s ass. His family was his life, even the sea came second. And now his liege lord was demanding one of his children be pulled from under his protection.

You stepped forward, mind made up. “I’ll go.”

Your mother hissed your name as your father set his rough hand on your shoulder. “My girl-”

“Roryn cannot set sail from the Red Keep. He is meant for the sea. I will go.” If you didn’t, you knew your family’s blood would be washed into the sea before the sun rose. Dalton had killed people for defying him and you would not see your family slaughtered for something you could do.

The Greyjoy clapped as he barked a laugh. “Presumptuous little thing. If you were my daughter, I’d have your tongue-”

“She isn’t your daughter,” your father spoke, low and dark. “And it seems you leave me no choice. My daughter will go.”

As the moon rose over the sea and you tried to stave off another bout of seasickness, your mother swept into your rooms aboard your father’s ship, dark eyes shining with tears. “What have you done, my sweet?”

You dared to look at her, opening your eyes for just a moment. “I will be fine.”

The small featherbed fell beneath her weight as she sat at your side. Her warm hands framed your face and the rolling of your stomach subsided. She leaned forward to press her forehead to yours and you pulled in a lungful of her mint and rose perfume. “Many paths are before you. I cannot see…” She paused. “You are my little girl.”

“I will always be your little girl, mama,” you whispered in return, but her words had your mind whorling.

She pressed a hard kiss to your forehead and whispered something in her mother tongue.

“I love you, too.”

You readied for your adventure in a bit of a haze, saying goodbye to your family and friends with tears in your eyes and your heart in your throat. Had you made the right decision? Would this truly be the best course of action for your family?

“Don’t be afraid. You are a Farwynd. We are adventurers. We are Ironborn. We are of Shadow. We are not afraid.”

You tried to repeat your brother’s encouraging words as you settled into your fine apartments within the Red Keep. There had been a bit of pageantry with your arrival, your family’s smaller ship bracketed by two larger ones with Greyjoy sigils blazoned on their sails. You met King Viserys and Queen Alicent first—the King seemed pleased that the someone from the Iron Islands was sent but his Hand, whom you immediately respected, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, was not impressed when she read the missive Dalton had sent with your arrival, explaining that you would be the Iron Islands’ envoy, ward to the Iron Throne, with his blessing.

“He thinks quite highly of himself, does he not?” She said with a perfectly arched brow.

You tried not to giggle, but a few might have escaped anyway. Either way, both Viserys and Rhaenys seemed pleased with the large trunk of gold and jewels House Farwynd had sent alongside you, as payment for your care while as a ward to the Crown.

But you did not like how the maids in the Red Keep wrinkled their noses when they opened the trunk your mother had packed with things she had wanted to take with you, for protection, my sweet. The only thing keeping you from screaming at them was the stark reminder that you would soon be alone here. Lashing out would not gain you any favor. So, you swallowed your anger and soon realized that it was easier to be angry than to be scared…which is what you were. Alone. For the first time in your life, you were truly alone. In a land foreign to you despite supposedly being ruled by the man sitting on the ridiculous, pointed chair.

Your mother once accompanied you on a tour on what she called the mainland and what the Ironborn called the Green lands. You visited Banefort, Crag, and Castamere in the Westerlands. While it took some time for the houses and villagers to warm to you (and after your stomach settled from the voyage), you enjoyed seeing the sights, learning how different the Westerlands were from your small isle, and the highlight of your trip had been when you stopped on Fair Isle and had been wrapped up in the celebrations of one of Lord Farman’s son’s namedays.

So you weren’t entirely green when it came to the culture of the rest of Westeros. But this was King’s Landing. This was the Red Keep. Even when your father’s guards and mother’s handmaidens stayed for a fortnight to help you settle, you felt like little more than a mummer, playing the part of a lady. But you knew they wanted and needed to return to Lonely Light. This was not their home either and you had a duty to fulfill, adventure to have…a life to live.

But still, you stood on dock and watched their longboat disappear on the horizon with tears stinging your eyes.

“My lady,” one of the handmaidens assigned to you started in a soft voice, “we should return to the keep.”

You pushed out a slow breath and nodded, pressing a hand to your stomach as if that would settle your emotions. “Yes, of course. Please lead the way.”

Yes, you were scared even if this had been your decision. You twisted and pulled at the emotion, trying to temper it as you slowly settled into a routine. Trying to see if anyone else was scared gave you an odd bit of comfort. You would even wager that while the Greyjoy had selected your family out of opportunity to spite your wealthy but unliked House, he answered House Targaryen’s raven because he was scared.

Scared of their dragons.

That fear would not last forever, not with his ego and growing savagery. But for now, you could delight in his exposed fear instead of your own. And you were largely alone as the royal children had taken a tour of the Reach, spending time with their mother’s (or step-grandmother’s…honestly the family tree was confusing) family in Oldtown. Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent were busy with Small Council duties or continuously going out into the city to slowly sway the smallfolk into adoring the Crown Princess with gifts of charity and an open ear to hear their troubles. They were kind to you, but you knew not to bother them unless absolutely necessary. By the end of your first moon in the Red Keep, you were little more than yet another tapestry to be hung on a wall. Something to be collected. A way for King Viserys to believe he had a united kingdom.

Ridiculous.

Being ignored for most of the day left you privy to some whispers. Alicent and Rhaenyra’s friendship and its demise after the former’s marriage to King Viserys had been the topic of quite a few. The following reconciliation had been the topic of even more. What mattered most to you was that they seemed at peace now. You would want to keep it that way.

Eventually, you were called to the Red Keep’s front steps with the older royals, and told to greet the royal children as they arrived. You resisted the urge to wipe your sweaty palms against your gown and stood straight as your mother taught you as the carriage slowly ambled its way closer. These would be the people you spent most of your time with, hopefully. You wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to make friends. You…didn’t want to be so alone anymore.

The carriage stopped and you tried to memorize which name went with which face as they were announced.

Prince Jacaerys with the perfect bow.

Prince Lucerys with the rounded cheek blush.

Prince Aegon with the sneer.

Prince Daeron with the open smile.

Princess Helaena with the worried brow.

Prince Aemond with the stern look.

And Princess Jeyne, Rhaenyra’s youngest, with the musical giggle.

You curtsied as you were introduced to each of them and you pretended not to hear Aegon as he muttered, “we shall have to hide the gold with her here, won’t we?” into his cup of wine as he walked by you. It was then, always liking a challenge, that you swore you would get Aegon to be your friend.

As you turned to follow them inside, Helaena appeared at your side, bright purple eyes wide as she stared at you. “You need not worry about the golden one. He shall be a rock and wave.”

And then she smiled and turned away again.

Despite not knowing what she had meant, you found yourself smiling.

1

A new routine was established and you were more or less grouped together with the royal children for most of the day. While you did little more than observe their lessons, you did learn more about the history of Valyria at their side. It was an interesting way to spend your time but it was at least better than your solitude.

Little Daeron was sweet. Jacaerys and Lucerys were kind to you, too.

Helaena was by far your favorite. You didn’t mind going with her to the gardens or the woods to help her catch bugs, readily ruining the hems of your fine gowns in muck and grass if it made her smile. She hadn’t spoken any other strange words as she did that first day, but you doubted she had much control of it.

Your mother had told you about people like Helaena. She called them Oracles. The Valyrians called them Dreamers, like Daenys. You thought that it suited Helaena. Dreamer. It didn’t seem that any of her family knew what to make of her and her quiet truths. You weren’t sure if they even knew what she was saying. And, to be fair, you hadn’t quite pieced together what she had told you, but you were sure it would make sense soon. Things like that always did. Helaena seemed a little removed from court, too, so you made sure to spend time with her, as much as she wanted.

Aemond was full of sullen silences and studious glances. He took his lessons seriously—all of them. From the histories of Westeros and Valyria to his time in the training grounds with Ser Criston; all of it was handled with a single determination to learn everything and excel at it. He even asked you questions about the Iron Islands outside of the lessons. You answered, always happy to talk about your home. Targaryens were truly a different breed.

You surmised you could slip away from the lessons you did not need, taking time for you to pull that hidden satchel your mother packed for you from the bottom of your wardrobe and just…breathe for a moment. But it was for naught. The third time you escaped the Valyrian lessons, you received a sharp knock at your chamber doors.

A stern looking handmaiden was waiting on the other side, fingers pressed together so tightly the pads were turning white. “My lady, the queen has requested you take your Valyrian lessons with the children.”

You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment, trying to find a tactful way of proceeding before deciding on, “I’m fluent.”

While you hoped that would be the end of it and you’d be able to return to your own endeavors, you were all but hauled in front of the Queen and King and forced to prove your fluency. “My mother is from Essos, Your Grace,”, you said, trying to keep the boredom out of your voice, “I learned High Valyrian alongside the Common Tongue. I would be happy to teach your children the Bastard Valyrian of Qohor if-”

“That won’t be necessary,” King Viserys said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh as his young wife blushed beside him. “You are free to spend that hour as you please.”

And it was with that small rebellion, did you finally draw Aegon to your side.

“How did you get out of our lessons?” He groused.

You smiled. “I’m fluent in Valyrian. It is my mother’s tongue.”

Aegon grumbled something into his wine before plopping down into the seat beside you. “What else do you know?”

And you couldn’t help the smile pushing at your mouth now. “My preference is for the Bastard Valyrian of Qohor.”

“My grandsire says the Qohorik are blood-soaked heretics.” His periwinkle eyes stared at you over the edge of his chalice as if daring you to refute him.

But you had heard worse and while it hurt you to hear the popular misconception of your mother’s homeland, you knew to bite your tongue. “Would you like to learn it?”

“I’m sure you’ve already had your fill of teaching my brother. Aemond seems to tug at your skirts every time he has the chance.”

A laugh escaped your lips before you could even think of quashing it. “Your brother sees no need to learn anything aside from High Valyrian and I assure you he is never tugging at my skirts.” To be true, you had spied him sketching a woman’s face on the edge of his history work when the tutor was answering questions poised by one of the other children. You finally recognized the woman as Lady Arryn when she had come to the Red Keep to meet with Princess Rhaenyra. He was besotted. The way the younger prince stared at her…it was unadulterated devotion. And Lady Arryn seemed completely unaware of it.

Aegon stared at you for another stretched moment. “I have been told I am a terrible student.”

Your smile came again. “Well, I suppose I will be the judge of that, my prince.”

And the prince smiled at you.

2

Despite your best efforts, Aegon did not take to Bastard Valyrian either. But, to be fair, it seemed his dragon preferred the Common Tongue anyway. And while your lessons with Prince Aegon didn’t prove fruitful in the way you had at first intended, you found the friendship you had cultivated with him much more rewarding anyway.

He was the one person in the whole of the capital that you never felt like you were burdening with your presence. He laughed at your ridiculous jokes, he stopped sulking when you told him he’d had enough to drink, and sought you out more than the desperate hangerson that seemed to shadow his every move. To be true, you felt like you were at least friends with the other royal children, but Aegon was your favorite. Helaena was a close second.

And it was because of this that you were standing in the Dragon Pit, staring at two dragons while Helaena and Aegon bickered. “I asked her first!”

“Dreamfyre has been accustomed to having two people on her back. She will be safer with me.”

“I am not going to endanger her,” Aegon pouted. “I would never.”

A soft touch at your elbow had you turning to see Aemond at your side. He was still without a dragon so he had been spared the argument but he did present you with a carefully wrapped present. “Happy nameday,” he murmured, cheeks pink. You unwrapped it quickly and smiled at the new quills and inkwells filled with dark ink swirled with pearl dust. “I know you have been sending ravens to Lonely Light twice a moon. I thought you should have finer supplies.”

“This is an exceptionally kind gift, my prince. I truly thank you for it.” The pink grew darker when you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek in thanks before turning and handing the gift to one of the handmaidens to make sure they were deposited into your chambers without issue. Aemond eventually excused himself from the Pit, not that you could blame him. His lack of dragon was still a sore spot.

“Who would you prefer to ride with?” Helaena asked, pulling you back to their squabble.

You resisted the urge to curl your hands into your skirts, a girlish impulse betraying your nerves. You didn’t want to hurt either of them. But you knew your answer. “Perhaps it would be good to also have Sunfyre become accustomed to having two riders. I would not want to always burden you and Dreamfyre.”

Aegon crowed in victory but Helaena only smiled. With a gentle squeeze to your hand, she let the dragon keepers lead her down toward Dreamfyre’s roost so they could take to the skies.

“Your victory celebrations are unbecoming of someone in your station,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as you turned to Aegon who was still basking in your decision. But you eventually fell into matching giggles.

He babbled about how he would take you around the city twice and then over the Bay and didn’t stop talking even as he reached down to help you climb up into Sunfyre’s fine saddle. The dragon was glorious and golden—you had ‘met’ the dragon a few times but this would be the first time you had ridden one. And it felt right to go with Aegon.

He had become your best friend.

“Hold tight to me,” he said, urging his dragon toward the Pit’s entrance. “I wouldn’t have you falling off and dirtying the streets.”

You cackled and dug your hands into his sides, earning a yelp and shake from him. He hated being tickled. And then…you were flying. The air whipped by your face and you heard Aegon yell out a command to go higher, higher, higher and he turned to smile at you, the sun making his periwinkle eyes shine.

You chanced a look down at the quickly shrinking city and let out another laugh. Surely this was magic. This was…

“I have something for you!” He yelled over the scream of the wind. Aegon let go of one of the reins—only laughing when you screeched about holding onto it—and dug something out of his doublet. He pried one of your hands from around his waist and slipped a delicate bracelet around your wrist. Dark red rubies and vibrant topaz were embedded in blackened steel, the colors of your house, making them look like tiny waves but the clasp was two interlocked dragon claws.

“It is beautiful!” You yelled, quickly grabbing hold of Aegon again.

“Happy Nameday!”

Before you could say anything else, he ordered Sunfyre to fly through the nearest cloud and his laughter overtook your squealing as tried to press yourself further into his back.

3

Your mother once said that all the rage and ruin that your father lacked had found its way to you.

For a long time, you thought it was a curse she had given you. But now, as you stared at the newest envoy from the Iron Islands, you understood that it was a blessing.

A group of men from House Harlaw had arrived only a fortnight ago and you felt something growing and bubbling beneath your skin like an eel every time one of them opened their mouth. They were vile. While King Viserys simply seemed proud of himself for having another Ironborn envoy, you saw how the Harlaw’s sneered at the royal children, taunting them, being cruel.

Every time they called Helaena queer, called Aemond a “half-man,” or said Aegon was “cowing to a trollop” (you assumed they were referencing Rhaenyra but you were not about to waste energy asking for clarification), you felt it grow.

It came to a head when everyone was called to the training grounds. Viserys had the stupid idea that boys knocking each other into the dirt repeatedly would forge a bond. You knew it meant he didn’t truly see you as enough, but surely he couldn’t be that ridiculous to not see how House Harlaw had only accepted his invitation to gorge themselves on his food and take their pick of the royal jewels and gold before making their way through the Narrow Sea to greater ventures. But no one would listen to you, even if you did have the sneaking suspicion that Princess Rhaenys had the same reservations as you did.

“You are not dragons!” Meldred sneered. “You’re sheep!”

The taunts continued and you bit your tongue so hard it bled when Meldred, the heir, said he would make Helaena one of his salt wives. The situation worsened when Aemond was maimed, defending his family’s honor. Aemond then went on to claim a dragon, Vhagar, but of course, Viserys cared little for that fact.

Meldred and his family were raucous in their celebration, filling the halls with their jeers. You knew better than to try to see Aemond. He had shut himself into his rooms after landing his massive dragon atop the Holdfast, blood streaked and cracked his face and neck. He would talk to you when he was ready. You didn’t mind waiting.

But it was Aegon whom you sought out. You knew he had felt each insult Meldred had hurled at him—no matter his sneer and princely bravado, you knew him. You knew he hurt. And you also knew the hidden passageways of the Red Keep and slipped through the dark shadows until you were walking into Aegon’s chambers, as you had done dozens of times before, knowing that courtly propriety would demand otherwise.

“I knew you’d come,” he murmured without turning to face you. Aegon was sitting in one of the overstuffed chaises that he had pulled toward the balcony that overlooked Blackwater Bay.

“I always do.” You settled beside him and stared out toward the horizon, too.

Aegon was quiet for a moment and you waited, as you always did, for him to find what he wanted to say. You never did mind. But your heart clenched when you saw him start to turn one of his rings in circles around his knuckles. It was a habit he had inadvertently started after you had (none too gently) steered him away from wine and ale whenever he had a glimmer of upsetting emotion.

“Is Aemond…” The words trailed off.

“Your mother says she’s having the finest maesters look after him. And I’ve heard murmurs she’s sent a raven to Lady Arryn, too.” You were not sure why Lady Arryn would be needed but perhaps the whispers of her being a witch did hold some water if Alicent sought her out for this.

The prince nodded and continued to turn his ring but the movement stopped quickly as his periwinkle eyes once again settled on you. “You have not gone to see him?”

“I will see him when he calls for me. I’ll not force my way to his side until he is ready. And I wanted to see you, too.”

“I’m not the one who lost an eye,” Aegon muttered, lips pulling tight over his teeth.

Your blood boiled at the reminder, and stayed heated as you saw the broken rage in your dearest friend’s eyes. “What they said, about you, your brothers, and nephews, none of it was true.”

“What?”

“You are not sheep, Aegon. And I’ll not have you believing any vile falsehood that he spewed today.” You needed him to know that it wasn’t true. He was a dragon. Your dragon. “Allowing him and his ilk to have such a hold on you is beneath you.”

Aegon was quiet again before nodding. “You always know what to say.”

“And when do you listen to me, hm?” Knocking your shoulder into his, you were delighted with the smile you coaxed from him. “Aemond will be fine, I am sure of it. And we will be free of the Harlaws soon.”

“Have they said they are leaving soon?”

You reached out and brushed one of his silver curls behind his ear. As you always did, you ignored how your entire chest tightened when he leaned into your palm. “I will make sure they leave with haste.” You knew what you had to do. Just like your mother knew how to stem the blood from a wound and speak to clouds, you knew how to do this.

You slunk back out of Aegon’s chambers and into your own, pulling the blade your brother had given you from beneath your featherbed and sliding it up your sleeve. It fit. Of course it did. This who you were. You set back out into the halls, head held high and steel in your spine. And it only took a handful of steps before another jeer came from the Harlaw’s. “And there is the little Farwynd!”

You turned and saw Meldred saunter into the hall, a few of his cousins on his heels. They blathered something about their spectacle at the training grounds but you didn’t care to listen, only waiting patiently as he moved closer and closer, that same wretched smirk on his face. And, when he was close enough, you moved. The blade glistened as you held it below his belt.

“I’m only going to say this once, so I need you to listen closely. Understand?”

“You wen-”

You pressed the blade closer, feeling as it cut through the leather of his trousers and you delighted in the sharp inhale he took. Yes, he could feel the sharp point of it. He waved a hand at his cousins, keeping them from approaching. “I said, listen to me. You and your family are to leave King’s Landing tonight. Not tomorrow, not a week from now. Tonight. If you do not, I’ll geld you. Do you understand?”

Meldred’s sharp breath smelt of ale and meat and you tried not to recoil as it washed over you. “You cannot command-”

“I am not commanding anything. I’m threatening you. There is a difference, Meldred. I know your family does not do more than kill and fuck, but I am sure you can understand the difference. Leave. Now.” The man’s dark eyes were ablaze with fury and you sank the knife further, feeling more than a little satisfaction when his snarl faded. “If you try to make a move toward me or anyone else in this castle, I will do far more than gelding you. Nod if you understand.”

You watched the tendons grow tight in his jaw before he nodded. Just once.

“Good. Good. You are not as stupid as you look. Now, go. Leave. I’ll be watching.”

And when Aegon asked about the sudden departure of the other Ironborn, you could only smile.

4

Living in the Red Keep had somewhat numbed you to the absurdity of living amongst House Targaryen. Just a few moons ago, a hooded man had asked if you had anything with House Harlaw’s sigil on it and you handed over the small dagger you had taken from their vacated apartments. It was no bother. You would have needed to destroy the seal and it was the least valuable thing you had pilfered anyway. And then when news came a few weeks later that House Harlaw had apparently been entirely eradicated after a certain dagger’s sheath was found beside a murdered Dalton Greyjoy…well, you could only smile. It was not anything of consequence to you. Even as the Iron Islands descended into a bloody civil war, you knew your family and House Farwynd was safe. They were too far away to be targeted and your father had no plans to sail toward danger anyway.

“Your smile is unnerving.”

Your gaze dragged over to Aegon but your smile did not falter. “You like my smile.”

“I do,” he said, cheeks just a touch pink, “but you look mad.”

“That is not a recent development,” Daeron said with a laugh from beside him—Aegon quickly knocked his elbow into his arm with a scowl. He never did like it when anyone else teased you.

“How fares your family?” Alicent said, ignoring her sons’ bickering. “Any news from Lonely Light?”

“My father has told me that most of the violence has settled but he would wager against any long lasting peace for now.”

The corners of Alicent’s mouth pulled down and she quickly turned to discuss that revelation with Rhaenyra and Rhaenys. They would handle it as they saw fit (and Viserys would do little more than hum and haw, as he always did).

The conversation eventually turned to the upcoming festivities for Helaena’s nameday. You suspected Jacaerys and Helaena’s wedding date would be set soon, too. And every word about the upcoming feast and dancing had Helaena shifting more in her seat. You reached across the table and set your hand beside hers, knowing she had to reach out to you, not the other way around.

“I will be at your side for anything you need.”

Helaena’s long fingers moved to settle over yours, tapping a soft beat against your skin. “You will save me then?”

“Of course I will.” Helaena beamed at you for a moment before being pulled away into a conversation with Jeyne and you were happy to focus back on Aegon who set a hand on your leg, a pout pulling at his mouth when you didn’t laugh at a joke you hadn’t heard.

And soon the festivities were in full swing and you were fitted into an outfit the poor seamstress had fretted over for a fortnight. She had been so used to the styles of the capital and House Targaryen that she struggled with your requests. But you, once again longing for your home despite the friendships you had formed here and the years that had passed, missed Lonely Light. You wanted something that would be at home in the familiar shadows of your childhood home. It was a little strange, a little more…you. And it served a dual purpose, despite the seamstress’ confusion.

The music was lively and the crowd more so, probably bolstered by the Arbor Gold and Dornish Reds. That would be your only excuse as to why the princess they had gathered to celebrate was being actively ignored at her own party. You knew her betrothed, Jacaerys, would have been at her side but he had taken ill a few days ago and was currently asleep with a fever. The other royals were doing their best to keep the worst of the courtiers away from Helaena but they could be relentless.

The latest song faded and you hurried your trek through the crowd as you heard one of the jesters call for Helaena to take a turn about the floor.

Before anyone else could step forward, you did. You held out a hand to Helaena and watched as her elusive smile split her mouth. Her soft giggle made you smile, too, as her hand settled into yours.

“You have saved me.”

“I swore to you that I would,” you whispered as you took your position. The crowds behind you started to whisper but you paid no heed to them.

“Is that Lady Farwynd? Wearing trousers?” Someone whispered.

“Yes, I believe so!”

You and Aegon had spent hours in his chambers, learning the steps traditionally taken by men in these dances. He had been a patient if not teasing teacher, but he never gave up when you stepped on his toes or twirled when you were supposed to spin him.

Helaena was a beautiful dancer, light and airy as she moved through the steps and you hoped you hadn’t embarrassed her. Thanking all of your mother’s gods, you didn’t miss a single step and bowed to her as the song finished. She reached out and grabbed your hands, pressing a kiss against your knuckles, before she moved back toward the head table where Alicent waited. She caught your eye over her daughter’s shoulder and smiled at you with a dip of her head.

“That was quite the performance.”

You turned abruptly to see a comely man at your side, a charming smile on his face. Wracking your brain for his name or anything that might help you place him, you were relieved to recognize the sigil, a white weasel. “Lord Varner. Good evening.”

The conversation that followed was pleasant if not a little stilted as he seemed to know more about you than you did about him. But he was amiable, you supposed.

“Would you do me the honor of the next dance, my lady?”

“Apologies, but I did promise Prince Aegon my next dance, my lord.” During your dance lessons, Aegon had made you promise that you would dance with him for the rest of the night after your turn with Helaena. It had been the easiest promise you had ever made.

The man hummed, dark eyes narrowing for just a moment. “I have heard whispers that you are quite close with the prince, no?”

The smile that pushed at your mouth could not be stopped as you nodded. “He is a dear friend.”

And while you hoped that would be the end of it, Varner stepped closer. “A friend. A tricky sort of term, is it not? I must say, my lady, you have played the long game. You are from a wealthy house, but with nothing else to offer the crown.”

By now, your smile had faded and you had begun to unbutton the sides of your trousers and pulled the hidden skirt of your dress free, it was the only thing you could think of to do. Screaming at him and making a fool of yourself was not an option at present. Not when it was Helaena’s nameday. And you did not know why his words hurt you.

“He will never choose you, my lady. You must know that.”

“I will never ask him to choose me, my lord. He is my friend. And I chose him.”

“And when your family says it is time for you to marry? Should you not think of yourself instead of him?”

“What would-”

“Your beauty has been secreted away in the halls of this castle for ages, my lady. But I still heard whispers of it. Of you.”

“And apparently my House’s wealth, my lord. You seem to know that as well,” you added with a sneer.

A blush stained his cheeks and he glanced away for a moment. “We could be a formidable match. I had hoped-”

“Ah, there you are.” Aegon stepped in front of you, looking every bit the prince you knew him to be in fine clothes with silver and gold jewelry across his neck and fingers. “You owe me a dance, my lady.”

“I also asked her for a dance, my prince.”

And then, to your horror and belated amusement, both men held out a hand for you to take. You looked between Lord Varner and Aegon and easily slipped your hand into Aegon’s without a look back as the prince pulled you further onto the dance floor.

He led you through the steps of the dance and did not part from your side even as one song turned into two, then three, then four.

The fourth was slower, mostly meant for couples or lovers, but you did not mind still spending it in Aegon’s arms.

“You chose me, do you?” Aegon murmured and he held fast when you tried to pull away from him and continued to lead you through the dance. His periwinkle eyes held something you could not name, but it was gone with his next blink and he smiled at you.

“You know I do,” you said, confused at how and why your voice shook.

This was Aegon. This was your truest, dearest friend. Why did he suddenly stir something in your chest with just his smile?

-1

With the decree that the eldest child could inherit titles, regardless of their sex, you still expected your brother to become Lord of Lonely Light after your father passed. After all, you were still Ironborn and the laws of the Crown had little sway on the Iron Islands. But you received not one but three ravens from Lonely Light, each stamped with House Farwynd’s sigil. The first was from your mother, telling you that you could hold the title if you wanted it.

The second was from your father, asking if you wanted to be named heir. It was an honest question with no ill-intent behind it as he reminded you of how much he loved and missed you.

The third was from your brother, relief tilting his handwriting. You knew I never wanted it, dear sister. I cannot sail the world if I must be counting coin on Lonely Light.

Well. That settled that, then. You would be Lady Farwynd when the time came.

The revelation didn’t give you more than a moment’s pause. You hadn’t really given your future a thought other than eventually returning to Lonely Light. And where did that leave you with Aegon? He was your dearest, truest friend and Lonely Light was so far from King’s Landing. But still, Rhaenyra had invited you to stay in the capital for as long as you wanted and soon your presence would have been required anyway. Jacaerys wed Helaena in a lavish ceremony and soon after that, with the pull to go home and the push to stay still gnawing at your mind, Viserys finally died and it would have been rude for you without paying your respects.

You owed that man nothing.

The only good he had done was half heartedly helping create his children but you thought they were more like their mothers anyway. You sat behind Aegon during the prayers and let him tangle his fingers with yours when he reached back for you. If Aegon needed you in this moment, no matter his own conflicting emotions regarding his father, you would not falter. And you would never shun his company. If he sought you out more during Rhaenyra’s coronation celebrations, you would never complain.

He was your Aegon.

He danced with you until your feet hurt and they you sipped wine at his side, hiding away on one of the Red Keep’s many balconies until the sun came up. And as the celebrations continued on, you were one of the very few Ironborn Houses that came to swear fealty to the new queen in person. All others sent ravens with their oaths but you doubted many of them meant them, truthfully. And you doubted that Rhaenyra cared much either.

But with each day that slipped through your fingers, you felt the pull to go back to Lonely Light…and it was strange that you hesitated to call it home. It was only for a moment, but it was a hesitation regardless. You needed to learn how to truly care for your charges and responsibilities.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Aegon asked.

Hot tears stung at your eyes without warning as you turned to look at Aegon, standing in the shadows of the hidden passage. “I don’t want to leave.”

“But you will.” He moved further into your rooms and grasped at your hands with shaking fingers. Without another word, he kissed each of your knuckles and your heart twisted with every brush of his lips. Why? Why now must you feel this? Or was it always waiting, patient for you to understand?

“And I will fly Sunfyre to your island if you are gone too long.” The prince tried to smile as he said it but it did not reach his beautiful eyes and it furthered the ache in your chest.

“I expect nothing less, my prince.” Your smile was no doubt stilted, too.

Aegon’s next breath stuttered against your hands as he still held them up to his mouth. “I’m just Aegon to you. Your Aegon.”

The words were a bell toll in your mind as you sailed away from the Red Keep and you tried to keep your eyes on Aegon as he stood on the shore, watching watching watching until he disappeared entirely. Your stomach still lurched all the way back to Lonely Light and your mother’s perfume and gentle touch still settled it. Your family threw a feast to mark the occasion of your homecoming and you slipped into a routine of shadowing your parents to make sure your island continued to prosper. It was good, fulfilling work.

But still, your heart ached and your dreams never ceased to bring you periwinkle eyes that haunted you when you woke.

“Part of your heart has been left behind in that wretched city,” your mother said, brooking no argument as she claimed the chair beside you as you learned the intricacies of collecting “taxes” from your men.

More tears came; you had tried to hide them since you had come back to Lonely Light. After all, were you not supposed to be here? Your home? “I… I do not know how to heal this wound, mama.”

She simply shook her head and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “I have lost so many years of your life to that crown and that iron chair. But you are still my little girl. I know your heart and it brings me the smallest bit of joy to still see you capable of such love.”

And the bell tolled again.

5

When Rhaenyra called on House Farwynd to help defend the Realm against the threat of the renewed Triarchy, you knew you must answer. Your family supported you and your men were all too eager to oblige. While your father might not have been as hungry for bloodshed and violence after marrying your mother, that did not mean the urges of the Ironborn beneath your care were the same. And you must lead them. You knew it. Your father knew it.

To truly be seen as the heir to Lonely Light, you had to do this.

The tears in your mother’s eyes were the only indication of her fear for you. “My girl. My beautiful girl,” she whispered. Deft fingers pulled at the straps of your light armor, tightening it a little more. “I only just had you home again. And now we must be parted again?”

“I will return to you again, Mother. I promise you.”

She nodded and pressed a kiss to your temple, wet cheek pressing against yours. “I know you will. But I…” Her thumb pressed against your cheek and her eyes held secrets she couldn’t divulge. It was something you always expected from her—her gods still burdened and blessed her. “I do not know how you will return.” She then murmured a prayer in her native tongue, asking for blessings, safety, and, strangely enough, happiness for you.

And you repeated the prayer to yourself as you stood beside your father on the bow of your ship, knowing your mother stood on the shores of Lonely Light, doing the same. Your brother was captaining a ship behind you and nearly a hundred more filled the sea beside you. When this was over, your brother asked for leave to take his ship and men east, wanting to explore Qarth and perhaps visit Asshai. He still wanted his adventures and you and your father were happy to oblige him.

But when you arrived at King’s Landing, almost all those thoughts vanished from your mind as Aegon shoved his way through the crowds at the dock to get to you. Ignoring propriety and courtly rules, he wrapped you in a tight hug that had strange tears stinging your eyes as his familiar scent engulfed your senses.

“Aegon,” you whispered. There was nothing else you could think to say.

“You have returned. To me.”

“I-”

“Yes, yes, and to help defend the Crown, that as well. But to me.”

A watery laugh punched out of you as you pulled back, fingers still gripping his shoulders. “Yes, to you.”

And it seemed the gods (or just Rhaenyra) were smiling down on you when you and your fleet were assigned to protect the shores of the Riverlands and Stormlands with Aegon and Daeron flying their dragons overhead. He would be at your side and you at his. For now, you would not be separated again. And while you knew this time together would be different, you still treasured it. Even when the Triarchy came and battered themselves against your ships and dragonfire, you knew you were with Aegon.

Your brother and father were not blind, Any time your men and the dragon riders made camp together, Aegon sought you out.

“You have a dragon shadow,” Roryn said with a smile.

“She has a dragon’s heart,” your father corrected, eyes finding your face over the chipped edge of his tankard.

The seas were calm tonight and you heard your men wondering if that meant the Drowned God was giving you a reprieve from your enemies or if it was a warning of what was to come. But still, you found yourself turning to see Aegon and Sunfyre at the edge of camp, both content with just each other for the moment.

“When you were taken from us, we thought you had been lost to us forever,” your father murmured. The ale sloshed over the side of his tankard as he set it down on the uneven table. “But you are still my daughter, but I think you have changed others.” His roughened fingers slid against your cheek before he stood. “You are salt, sea, and shadow, my girl. Every light needs its shadow.” And then he was standing and dragging your brother up from his seat, too. A question was on the tip of your tongue but it quickly left when Aegon approached the table. He and your father and brother dipped their heads at each other, the smallest bit of respect shown, before he sat beside you. Your stomach twisted pleasantly as you noticed how the firelight made his periwinkle eyes sparkle as the prince smiled at you.

It had taken you nearly a year of being parted for you to understand what you had with Aegon. It wasn’t loud or fiery. It was quiet and slow growing. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Is it selfish of me to be thankful for the Triarchy to attack? If I had to wait another moon to see you again, I would have flown Sunfyre to Lonely Light.”

You smiled and it grew when his hand nudged against yours on the table and you took the chance to link your fingers together, roughened palm against roughened palm. “Well, we can be selfish together.”

You and Aegon spoke until the last of your men started to turn toward the tents or their ships to sleep for the night. And it was still not enough time with him. You didn’t think you would ever have enough time with him. And you hope he felt the same way.

But you didn’t have time to seek an answer to your question when a horn blared and ripped you from your dreams of periwinkle eyes. You rushed out of your tent as you tightened the chestplate over your body, feet sinking into the sand. The horn blared again and you saw the foreign boats rushing ashore and shadowed figures hurdling out of them. They had come just before dawn. The bodies of the lookouts were half-submerged in the dying embers of the fires and you barely had time to recognize them before you were taken from your feet, tackled and spitting sand. It scratched your skin and blurred your vision for just a moment before you rolled again and grabbed one of the blades from your boot and thrust it down into the neck of the man who had taken you down. He gurgled in his own blood but you hardly heard it as you sprung to your feet.

Your men were yelling, hurrying to their longboats to take to the seas, culling the stem of invaders. They were yelling for anyone and everyone to follow them. And you knew you should. You were the heir to Lonely Light. You were Ironborn. And-

Daeron’s dragon Tessarion screeched and belched cobalt flames across a horde of men intent on hurting her and her rider before she took to the skies and then you saw Sunfyre struggling against the overwhelming numbers of Triarchy rushing toward him. And Aegon was there.

Your Aegon.

And your decision was made. You could hear Aegon’s screams and your mind cruelly conjured every time he laughed with you, the touch of his hand in yours, the whispered secrets you had given each other.

And it was about to be ripped away from you.

You sprinted toward Aegon, grabbing another weapon from around your waist and threw yourself into the fray with a scream that shredded your throat. Sunfyre’s golden fire rained down on the group but still more came, piling onto the beautiful dragon with glinting knives and screams of their own. Again and again you stabbed and swung and killed, pushing your way through the crowd to get to them. To get to Aegon. And then you were standing in front of him, a blood-covered blade in each hand and your heart roaring in your ears. And Aegon was warm at your back for just a moment before collapsing and you saw red and then gold as Sunfyre roared again. You could taste the other men’s blood on your tongue as it mixed with the greasy ash that swept by you, but still…you could not stop. Not until Aegon was safe.

You knocked away a knife as it aimed for your stomach and then took the man’s head from his shoulders with a roar of your own and then sank into the sand. Blood had soaked you to the bone…but it was done. Turning on your knees, you threw down your weapons and scrambled to drag Aegon into your arms. Sunfyre hissed, his own blood steaming into the purple light of dawn from where the attackers had managed to wound him, and curled his golden tail around you.

“Aegon? Aegon, can you look at me? Open your eyes!” Your bloodied hands patted at his face, his chest, anywhere you could think to touch him that wasn’t wounded. A crimson stain had spread across his stomach, a matching one down his left thigh. And he was…

“You…magnificent woman…” Slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes opened and he smiled at you, blood on his teeth.

Tears quickly blurred your vision but you hurried to blink them away as you stared down at him. “Do not worry. I…I will get a maester. You are going to be…” The tears came again. “We are going to be just fine. You and me.” He had to be. He had to. You just got him back.

Aegon reached up and brushed his fingers against the drying blood on your cheek. “I knew you’d come. My bloody savior. My vicious lady.”

“Did I not tell you?” You asked, almost laughing. “I would always come to you.”

The battle might be won, your men cheering and Tessarion roaring overhead, but you knew, as Aegon looked at you and found the strength to wrap his hand around the back of your neck and gently pull you down so your forehead pressed against his, sticky and warm, something else had changed.

+1

Aegon loved you. He loved you. He had loved you a few moments after you had offered to teach him Bastard Valyrian, picking him above all others. You had wanted him, over and over again. And he wanted you. Loved you.

And you were leaving him again.

The war was over. His family was safe. His sister’s reign was at peace, again. His siblings, niece, and nephews were settling into happy and mostly politically advantageous marriages. (He would still never understand why it took Aemond so long to get married to Lady Arryn but that was a story he could be told later, he assumed.)

But why not him? And why not with you?

You had run to him when the Triarchy had nearly overwhelmed him and Sunfyre. You had killed for him. So why were you leaving again?

Now, Aegon could have a silver tongue when the situation called for it, and often when it didn’t. But why could he not form the words to keep you from leaving again? He could not bear it a second time. Not again. Not when he just had you back. And why did this affliction now of all times? He’d never had trouble speaking with you before.

But still, he wordlessly watched as you and your men milled about the Great Hall, esteemed guests at the festivities celebrating the obliteration of the Triarchy. Aegon’s wounds were still tender but would heal, several maesters had checked and then checked again at the behest of his mother and eldest sister. And you were set to leave at first light tomorrow, back to Lonely Light. Away from him.

You caught his eye over your father’s shoulder and smiled at him, radiant and beautiful. You had been beautiful covered in blood and gore. You had been beautiful when you were in your finest gowns and your oldest sailing leathers. You were beautiful.

And then Aegon was standing and moving through the crowd, ignoring how his side protested and his leg burned with the sudden movement. He had to see you, touch you, let you know that he loved you. He bit back a snarl as someone collided with him but still carried on until he was standing beside you.

Brief but formal introductions had been made ages ago but Aegon was not entirely sure what the older man thought of him. Lord Farwynd was stern and Aegon was only momentarily stunned silent when he turned his gaze toward him. “It took you some time to make your way over here, princeling.”

Aegon’s smile felt a little crooked but it settled when you laughed and knocked your arm into your father’s side. “Father, please.”

He simply nodded his head, the very edges of his lips curling in a ghost of a smile. “I doubt I am the one you came to speak to.” Lord Farwynd pressed a soft kiss to her temple before walking away without really giving Aegon any sort farewell.

You looked like you were about to say something but Aegon couldn’t wait and wrapped both of his hands around one of yours and started to tug you toward one of the balconies. “I must speak with you.”

And you followed without a word but he could feel your gaze pressing into the back of his head and as he hurried to drag you behind the curtain and stone pillar of the nearest one.

“Aegon? What-”

He kissed you.

To be true, that was not what he had intended to do but he could not stop himself when the moonlight hit your eyes and your mouth looked so…perfect.

But you kissed him back.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him tight. It was a little uncoordinated, but Aegon didn’t care. He could teach you, and he could learn what you liked. You could learn together. And when you smiled against his mouth, Aegon’s entire chest felt like it was near to bursting. His hands framed your face and he pulled you closer, barely letting either of your lungs fill with your next breath, and kissed you kissed you kissed you.

He could kiss you forever.

And he wanted to.

“Marry me,” he murmured against your mouth. “Please, please, marry me. Be my wife and let me be your husband.”

You paused and your fingers moved to brush through the curls at the nape of his neck. He watched with rapt attention as you bit at your lip. “Aegon, Lonely light is so far from the Red Keep. I would-”

“The distance is nothing to a dragon. And I want to be with you. It was always you. It will always be you.” His thumbs smoothed soft circles into your cheeks and your eyes shuttered as you leaned a little into the touch. He should have been doing this for years. Why had he wasted so much time? “I will happily go where you lead. I will follow you everywhere.” He paused. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. I want to be your husband. Please, tell me if your heart is the same as mine.”

Your thumb pressed against his bottom lip as your next breath stuttered against his. And then you kissed him, just enough for Aegon to chase your lips, eyes closed, when you pulled back after a few too-short moments. “I love you, too.”

Aegon’s eyes opened and his answering smile almost hurt but he did not care when he pulled you closer, hands bracketing your hips. Just for a moment, he let him think of all the things he would learn about you soon enough…if you accepted his proposal.

The tears in your eyes gave him hope as they sparkled in the low light. “Will you tell your sister and mother or shall I?”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

[st5byler]

Mileven, The General Audience, and You

This is probably my first time ever making a post like this, but I find this discussion interesting. Also I just wanted a punchy title lol.

There has been a lot of discussion about 'The General Audience', more often called the GA when discussing Byler & Mileven, and I want add my piece (with at least one piece of evidence... My Mom)

Milevens Claims about the General Audience

So, I see Milevens claim that the General Audience is entirely on Milevens side, and that they believe in the ship.

I'd like to ask them where they end up getting this information post-Season 3 release.

This is entirely correct if you base it off of Season 1 & 2. It was a ship that people were rooting for! There were no flaws to speak on and their journey for each other was considered cute. But, well, there's more than 2 seasons of Stranger Things.

Season 3 was essentially the season to plant the seeds of doubt about Mike & Eleven having and keeping a romantic relationship. Season 1 was mostly unromantic, and Season 2 they were separated till the end - so by Season 3 when they had each other, all should be well, right?

Wrong. The cracks in the ship became more prevalent than ever. It also kicked off the Mike Wheeler hate. And, to be frank, Season 3 is also the worst season for him.

...And then we have Season 4. Mike & Eleven's plots with each other continue to be their only plotlines together. while I wasn't there for the Season 3 backlash, I was absolutely there for the Season 4 backlash. even within spaces that didn't ship Byler, Mileven was disliked.

I feel like the likes on this tweet speak volumes.

I do not believe the GA dislikes Mileven, but I do think they are tired of their relationship at this point - because it's been made up of more conflict than actual relationship stuff lol.

So why do Milevens still push the narrative that the GA still loves Mike and Eleven together? Because the GA is important! The reception to parts of the show from the audience ends up being something to at least take into account during the making of the next season, and if the GA are no longer that receptive to Mileven, then where does that leave the shippers?

My Mom

I mentioned her for a reason, because she's one of the people you can consider the General Audience. Or perhaps even a huge fan. She is a big fan of this show, collects merchandise and everything. Her favorite character is Eleven, and she's been watching since season 1 was released.

She is also a Mileven fan. She thinks they're cute together mostly, and she doesn't engage with fancommunities for Stranger Things (eg Reddit/Tumblr). She just lives in her own world ST-wise.

So when I asked her what she thought if Mileven broke up in Season 5, she said this. "Yeah, that would make sense. They haven't really been together long."

I was surprised, but I end up finding it more funny than anything. If my mom, who really loved Mileven & has never engaged with fancontent thinks it makes sense if Mileven broke up, than the GA who are probably less diehard than her are probably gonna be fine with Mileven breaking up.

TL;DR

The GA aren't as big of fans of Mileven as the shippers claim they are, and are probably going to end up fine if they broke up, lol.

(Note, sorry if this is incoherent ramblings, I don't do these kinds of posts but I hope it makes sense!!)

[dragqueenstarscream]

as a starscream fan, what are ur thoughts on megatron? i know their relationship is. complicated so whatever ur opinions may be id love to hear

long ramble incoming. this isn't directed at you anon; i just have a lot of thoughts about megatron that i've kept bottled up for a while

my view on megatron is... complicated.

on the one hand, he's an incredibly iconic villain, and you could argue that without megatron, transformers as a property wouldn't be much of a thing. every iconic hero needs a villain. every optimus needs his megatron.

and he's a great villain! he's iconic for a reason. frank welker is my favorite voice for him, though i will say, my favorite megatron is tfa megs for how clever he is. it's refreshing to see when a lot of megatrons will brute force and anger their way through things.

but this is where my own personal biases color how i see him, because, i'm gonna be honest... for the most part, i really don't like him.

it's not because he's a poorly written character. i've spoken about this before, but i'm an abuse survivor who's still going through it, and megatron reminds me WAY too much of my abuser for me to really like him rather than just to appreciate him as a character. it's the big reason why starscream is my favorite. i see my tendencies in him, and i see megatron as my abuser, especially tfp and armada.

i think this is the big reason why i despise megastar as a ship. if you or anyone else likes it, that's fine! more power to you. i'm not gonna knock you as a person for it. but it makes me feel really gross whenever people draw/write it as "uwu toxic yaoi" or make them seem really in love with each other. to me, all i see is someone trapped in a cycle he can't escape from.

and i think my bias is why i pretty much refuse to read mtmte/lost light, because from what i know about it, megatron is given a chance at redemption. and... i just can't. i understand that a lot of people love these comics, and hey, they're probably really good! but i can't read something where i can so easily imagine this happening with my own abuser, and i put myself in starscream's shoes, wondering if anyone will actually take what i went through seriously.

it's one of the big reasons why the first season of earthspark was so good for me. finally, at last, starscream's abuse was taken seriously! he had someone who was willing to listen! even when people like optimus and dot were willing to get along with megatron, starscream was still going through emotional hell, and no one was willing to listen to him because, hey, megatron's good now! and starscream was a backstabbing traitor, who would listen to a guy like him? and when someone did, he started to change for the better.

but then the writing team got scrapped and his arc was flushed down the toilet. boo hiss.

either way, i can't read mtmte/lost light because i hate the idea of an abuser getting a second chance like that. i know that this is for character development/exploration, and i won't knock anyone who likes those comics. i just won't read them myself.

tl;dr, i recognize that megatron is an iconic character and i like some iterations of him, but for the most part, megatron reminds me of my abuser, which makes me really dislike him.

[madametamma]

Love this idea. You're really good at build up and describing it.

Here's what I was thinking. As the kid investigates the town, they end up making some friends their age at the local Smallville high school. They're somewhat outcast themselves for their own reasons but they end up forming a friend group together. They've been exploring strange things happening around the town over the years. (I'm thinking something in a similar vain to Smallville, where when Clark first arrived in his ship, the Alien stuff in little ways affected the whole town)

When Clark is in town he happily encourages them to pursue investigative journalism like he did and it turns out, that it's a thing that interests them.

When the kid and his friends reach a dead end investigating Smallville, that's when he starts to wonder if maybe they should try contacting Superman for help. They run away with their friends to go to Metropolis, it's only when the bus is halfway there that they start to worry if this is going to mess up their situation with the Kents. The last time they ran away from a foster family, they never saw each other again.

I think that when the kids arrive in Metropolis they get into danger that Superman thankfully saves them from and the kid begins to freak out.

"Why did I do this? I don't care that Clark is weird! I'm weird! Weird things are great! I ruined everything and almost got me and my friends killed because I pursued this, and now I'm probably going to have to go to a new foster family! I messed everything up!"

Superman gets down on one knee to properly look the kid in the eye and tell him that everything is going to be okay and that he's not wrong for trying to look for the truth, just that he has to be mindful of how investigating can affect the people around them. At this moment the kid is just at the edge, so close to figuring it out because Superman is deeply familiar but ultimately too emotionally exhausted after the days events to keep thinking about it

Superman helps the kids get back to Smallville. Ma and Pa were more worried than they were mad. They sit the kid down and tell them that they know there are strange things about their family but that they're also good and in a good place. They hope they can keep their secret a little longer for their own privacy's sake and hope that they can trust them and maybe they will tell them someday when they're ready.

The kid agrees, remembering what Superman said to him and decides that Ma and Pa are trustworthy people and that they should be able to have their secrets for now.

Me versus a fanfic idea, trying to cohere

Having been watching some of "My Adventures With Superman" lately, and I have become kind of obsessed with a crack idea that came to me last night at fuck o'clock in the morning, that being: what if (in the MAWS continuity or any one in which the Kents are both alive) Jonathan and Martha got roped into briefly housing or fostering a teen after Clark was out on his own?

I mean. Like. Imagine you're this kid. You are staying with the most tragically uncool individuals on this planet, but they're honestly nice, they aren't bothered by all the stuff that got you labeled A Troubled Youth or the gender stuff you may have going on or any of that, they just seem fundamentally Able To Roll With It, and, okay, this is going to be fine. It's temporary anyway. Just keep out of trouble.

And they have an adult son who comes around sometimes? He's kind of nice too. Maybe twenty-one, twenty-two, he's built like a moose and you'd think he'd be imposing but he's kind of shy and awkward and somehow just fundamentally Not Like the people who beat you up before, so you're pretty chill with him. He knows all the good places on the farm to sit and think, or sit and draw. One time when he comes around he shows you the creek and you learn all about the frogs and the crawdads and the snakes. Tells you about the corn snake he rescued once. Stuff like that.

Only some things really don't add up.

Like, there's never a car in the driveway when he shows up. And it's not on weekends or anything like that, it's weird times.

And there's a note on the fridge that says, "If you drink all the milk please replace it THIS MEANS YOU," and before long you figure out it's gotta be meant for him, because he will take a gallon and finish it a glass at a time and who can even do that without throwing up? Wasn't there some kind of ghastly TikTok challenge about that?

And when you joked to his Dad and Mom that he seems to have a real superpower for figuring out whether there is going to be pie, you got such weird, almost nervous looks that you quickly dropped the subject.

And one time you swear he appeared out of absolutely nowhere to walk you back to the house because Mr. Peterson's bull broke the fence and is wandering this way. (He was the first one to realize this. How did he realize this? He's sort of guiltily evasive on the subject.)

And he reassures you one time that you don't actually need to fear the Kansas Mothman because he accidentally started that legend. How? He really doesn't want to talk about it.

What with one thing and another, you start wondering…

Maybe he's a ghost.

Maybe something awful happened and he can't move on. You don't want to suspect the Kents, they are honestly pretty top-notch for parental types (especially after some of the ones you've known) but other people in the town? You know personally how ghastly a small town can be to That Weird Kid. Maybe something really bad happened.

(Maybe it could happen to you too.)

So you've got to figure out what's going on so you can get justice for your friend. You start to investigate. Smallville does have rather more than its fair share of Weird Shit—like possibly a lot more—but you're not really getting anywhere. And it occurs to you that you don't really have the wherewithal to go and try to find—well, let's not put too fine a point on it, to find an unmarked grave—that could be anywhere.

Meanwhile the world has at this point in time started to see some Seriously Weird Shit, although at this point it's largely In Other Places because that's where everything in the world happens, there is absolutely Nothing Significant In Kansas and probably never will be, but it gives you an idea. Slightly insane and scary idea, but you've hit so many dead ends that it might be worth it.

You're going to try to contact Superman and see if he can use his rumored X-ray vision to figure out what happened to Clark.

…

Just to be clear, I have no idea what the ultimate punchline is for this piece of ridiculous meandering is, and it's the sort of thing that does require a pretty good punchline. So I don't know if it's ever actually going to get written. On the other hand, it is one of my favorite dishes, which is Canon Characters Helping Queer Kid, with a heavy helping of Following Logic-like Structures To Wrong Conclusions sauce.

So I thought I might post the idea, because I have this lovely optimistic belief that sometimes, I am in fact extremely funny, and tumblr is a place that often eggs me on.

[crimsonlovebartylus]

I, personally, feel that two ships could coexist in the same fandom using one of the characters for different partners if some of the fans weren't such entitled bitches and comment shit on post that have nothing to do with say ship.

in order to coexist in a fandom, you have to be respectful of others people HC's or ships. like you can't consistently shit on someone ship and expect for people to not talk shit about yours. it's all about being respectful - I don't believe writers/artists (or editing) enjoy consistently receiving underneath their work comments like: "oh this is so beautiful but i prefer (ship name)" or "this (ship name) doesn't make sense, but nice writing".

I've seen people comment on others blog post, shit like, "I don't agree with you, but nice try." there shouldn't be a need for such a condescending comment. If you don't agree, cool. Stay quiet, and mind your business. If you don't ship two characters, than cool, stay quiet.

and there should also be no need for someone to send anonymous hate to someone because they don't particularly like a ship or they use their blog to talk about about their dislike. If you don't agree with the person, just unfollow them.

Coexisting in a fandom is about being respectful and just enjoying the content without it becoming some fan war or a ploy to make someone feel like crap for not enjoying the same ship as you.

You could most definitely like a different ship and still be respectful to the people in the fandom. Like for an example, I absolutely love Bartylus and I am moots with many that prefer Jegulus & Rosekiller - but I take the time to enjoy my moots content and writing and see their POV of how say ship works for them. They respect my post about Bartylus and we coexist in a fandom.

It's that easy. <3

[niightniines]

isn't it so weird that Misa Amane was kidnapped by L against her will, tortured and confined for seven weeks, and almost killed herself because of it, but nobody who ships Lawmane talks about it because I guess they don't want to recognize the parts of their ship that are a little fucked up? like ok what happened to "I'll never ship yagamane even in au context because it's just too toxic!" alright then do that for other ships too.

[gilgil-machine]

I wish some people never had access to internet at all...

TW assault, TW r*pe

[milfbrainrot]

have always been a bit more neutral to timebomb but it has rly surprisingly grown on me so much ;-; i think i do see it more from the tragedy angle and maybe more one-sided. i'm not sure jinx has ever been in a place to reciprocate the feelings i'm sure ekko has, but it is nice to think about for years down the line and in terms of what could have been.

[hum--hallelujah]

built this life and now it's mine - Fab Four fluff + jetpoison* (platonic or romantic, up to interpretation) (for @caffeineecold)

-

Kobra got the jukebox in the corner working two days ago and Jet's just returned from a run that nearly killed him but also scored them a crate of real booze — not the shitty moonshine brewed in the Zones that everyone pretends they like even though it tastes like the inside of the boot that gave bootlegging its name, real stuff.

Party's already sloppy drunk, sitting at the counter, and Jet doesn't usually let himself get this tipsy. Kobra and Ghoul sit in the corner next to the jukebox, picking out tunes and passing back and forth a bottle of champagne, of all things. For being a sandpup, Ghoul has expensive tastes.

Something bass-heavy is playing when Party slips from the stool and nearly topples over. Jet's reflexes are sluggish, but he manages to slide from his own seat and catch Poison. Party's pissed at him for nearly dying, again, and Jet expects a shove and dark look, but that's not what he gets. Instead, Poison leans into him, fitting them so naturally together that it's almost frightening.

"Y'okay?" Jet asks quietly into Party's hair.

"Dance with me, Star?"

Jet blinks, shocked. This is the last thing he expected. But he's just drunk enough, inhibitions just low enough, and he always crumbles when Pois calls him Star. Nobody else really ever does. "Sure," he finds himself saying, and Pois curls even more against him, their hands finding their places without even looking. It's too easy to sway back and forth together, in some facsimile of dance that's really just more an excuse for the comfort of touch that they both need, to the lilting gravelly guitars playing through the jukebox speakers.

The track skips and Kobra thumps the side of the box to get it playing again, a rising guitar interlude without words. Poison's head is nested against Jet's jaw, red hair filling his entire field of vision. On an impulse he doesn't resist for once, probably due to how tipsy he is, he presses his lips to Poison's temple.

"I'm sorry, sunshine," he whispers. "Fuck, Poison, I love you. Not the way... you want me to, probably, but I do. I love you so much." His eye is wide and staring, a little bit desperate. There's no other way he can say it.

"Don't leave me," mumbles Poison softly into the skin of his neck. The song is different now, something softer. "My Star..."

Jet closes his eye. "I'm not trying to," he says.

Poison sniffs, still swaying to the new tempo of this song. "Try harder."

Pois probably won't remember this in the morning. Kobra and Ghoul will give them weird looks, like they've completely lost it, and Jet will know why. Heck, they're giving them weird looks now, over the top of a champagne bottle and between smirking giggling asides to each otherm But Party is too drunk to retain much. They won't ever talk about it, except maybe when it comes up in an argument they force everyone to hear. You said you wouldn't leave me, you said you love me. I don't care how it is I just want you to love me whatever way you can.

The future is unfolding in front of them in so many ways. But right now it's just two friends, irresponsibly drunk and folded into each other.

[harrowscore]

i think i finally found a semi-famous (?) blog that blocked me lmao

[dilfosaur]

well i haven't spilled my guts on tumblr since i was in college but it's the platform that's felt The Most Mine thru the years, so

let's talk!

i've had a huge chip on my shoulder that i wanted off before the year ends. very bad professional experience to follow

so firstly to get ahead of the speculating, i'm not naming names or anything. some of you will puzzle out who i'm talking about, but please don't bother anyone especially not on my behalf. i've worked hard to distance myself from them the past few months. shit happens, especially when you're a dumb bitch (that's me!)

but also this person was someone i considered a close friend and it makes me uneasy to possibly direct backlash at them. "then why post about it" bc i did intermittent work for them for over a year. this is just about that. so hear me out

basically it started off fine. i initially did some commission work for good pay, then was invited to become more involved with their team. unfortunately as i became more involved with their operation it became more disorganized over time. projects started then forgotten, constantly shifting schedules, lapsing communication between roles, confusing financials, and often inconsistent if not late payments. during mid 2023 i was doing colorist work, sometimes on a one day turnaround (all while also preparing drawfee's summer merch launch). the payroll wasn't set up correctly so i wasn't paid for that work for over a year (more on that later), tho to be fair that was largely my own fault at first as i just didnt realize the payments didn't go thru lol

i always consider myself decently capable of separating friendship and coworker-ship; i run a company with 4 wonderful friends, going strong for almost 5 years. that didn't really work out in this case. by early this year our friendship was on the rocks; work issues fed into personal issues and vice versa. so as the rest of this shit plays out, we had just had our first "big fight" which i felt very bad about and added to all the upcoming tension

a huge point of friction was the fact that i really wanted to work with them to make a music video for one of their songs. i've always wanted a chance to make a music video, was confident in a concept i came up with, and even did some concept art for the idea. everyone insisted they loved the concept and that we should do it, but we kept pushing it back for various reasons. it ended up becoming a huge sticking point for my frustrations, which i tried to express productively. TLDR, we eventually got around to discussing it seriously around april.

i planned to ask for $4000 with negotiable add-on for the whole project, which was my Friend Discount price. i was offered a contract for $1000 flat rate, as they insisted that was the only budget they had for it.

don't ask me why i signed it lol. i didn't even counter offer

there was some girlmath to it: i wanted an extra 1k for a student scholarship i provide every spring and well, there it was. but if i had to guess, i saw it as something i just couldn't back down from any more. i caused these folks- my friends- a lot of problems bc i dug my heels in so deep to chase this project, so fuck it we ball

i had about 4 months to solo a 3 minute music video. they wanted it done in august so they could release it before summer ended, bc "it was a summer song". to be fair i was asked if i needed them to pay for anything extra like assistants (which i would have to find and manage) but i was so immediately overwhelmed that i didn't wanna slow down to wait on that process lol. there was very minimal communication other than brief progress check-ins every few weeks. i did everything for that project myself: the original concept, character designs, storyboards, layouts, backgrounds. i even did the editing/compositing for the final cut of the MV. the only favor i did myself was limiting the amount of it that was actually animated to simple loops and motions. hardly my best work but it was work still done

i did it all in between my full time job. i ended up having to take nearly a month away from most of my drawfee duties (with the support of the others) to make the august deadline. i only ever asked for a 3 day extension (notice given about a week in advance, around the same time i was given the final song file lol). i finished the music video at 6am on the final deadline and recorded drawfee the next day on 2 hours of sleep

but it was done, coolies. the team was very happy with the final product. honestly, without getting into it, those were a very emotionally taxing 4 months. on the professional side, i regretted agreeing to the project and especially for the dogshit rate they offered. i felt like a hypocrite- as someone who always wanted to advocate for younger artists demanding their worth in a world that's getting increasingly hostile toward creatives, i failed myself

so when i met with the manager to discuss the release plan, i told them to do whatever worked best for them as i only had one request: i wanted my credit removed from the project

tbh... like... lmao this dramatic bitch right!! but really, i decided that bad practices only breed worse business. friends or not, it was unprofessional of me to accept such a low paying job so i just didn't want my name used in association. everything felt so muddled to me and i was just really tired at this point

the manager was very understanding and then offered that i could be paid more. they said that their team "was surprised" i accepted their low rate and they would be happy to up the amount. this confused me as the initial budget seemed pretty set and at no point between april and august was i offered a better rate. i knew these guys weren't made of money. so, i declined. i didn't want to put anyone out of their means over work that was already done and agreed upon. but more importantly, i was over the whole thing and didn't want to prolong the project with a contract renegotiation. i just insisted my name be removed

they decided to use a pseudonym (which i was fine with) so they could create a story about a character who made the MV (this sounds really convoluted but i don't know how better to put it without getting specific, sorry). that way if people asked about the credit, they could speak comfortably about it without signaling that something went wrong behind the scenes. ok, kind of a silly narrative imo but whatevs. and maybe this is where i finally went truly wrong but. yolo i guess

i gave the name "D. Smithee", D as in dilfosaur and Smithee as in Alan Smithee. look it up for fun film trivia ig! was it passive aggressive of me to reference that in this context? yeah, honestly. but i thought it was kinda funny and really not that deep. if it was a problem, i have other real, non-cheeky pseudonyms i regularly use. the manager accepted it and all i had to do was wait for them to post the video and i could leave the whole experience behind me

a week later i received a message from the manager that my pseudonym had been denied by the rest of the team bc one of them got the reference. fair enough lol. however, they decided that rather than ask for a different name, the were going to make one up for me that they liked and would "fit the [story]", without asking me

and that! is when i finally snapped!

i was so tired of giving them concessions at this point and having a credit made up for me without any input from me felt genuinely violating and unethical. i started to Panic bc of how stressed i was, and asked for my overdue payments (aka the $500 still owed on the MV, and the colorist rate from a year prior that was never paid even tho i reported it in january) to be scheduled ASAP as i was leaving the work discord immediately

i finally told them off for exploiting me throughout the months while i kept trying to just be nice and finish my contact cleanly. in return i was told that it was unfair to say that as i agreed to everything- i accepted their cheap rate and denied further payment so that was all settled, and it was ok to change my credit without my consent bc i "said they could do whatever with the release". i called bullshit, ended the convo as kindly as i could, and cried lol. they agreed to ditch the pseudonym and just give no credit. that night was the last i heard from anyone on that team

and the real kicker?

august came and went. then september, october... and they never released the music video

and i don't know why, because i was never contacted about it. i've been removed from the picture entirely i guess. 4 months and boatloads of stress. just. up in smoke. i don't know what i expected honestly

it's hard to not take everything that happened personally and as done in bad faith. i really do, honestly. i've had plenty of shitty deals in my almost 10 year art career, but it hits different from people you saw as friends. but to the point of "why not keep it private", i have never felt so disrespected as a professional as i did this past year. i can toy with money and credits and other formalities all i want, but my work- my ideas, my labor, my effort- is still so important to me. i felt like the biggest idiot for doing so much work, pouring so much of myself into a piece for someone's use, for what has amounted to nothing

but more importantly i hated myself for undervaluing my work, even if initially i thought this person was a trusted friend. money is not really an issue for me- drawfee is my main job and i am fine and comfortable. it's so important to pay artists appropriately but i often undersell my own work bc i value the collaboration and passion between creatives more than the reward. i think a lot of artists tend to feel the same, and it often makes us easy to take advantage of. it's so difficult to find the balance between passion and making a fair living, and i think there's some shame within ourselves when artists choose to prioritize that passion

i wanted to finally get all this off my chest bc i was ashamed of every choice i made. things like this happen all the time i'm sure and hiding these mistakes only make it easier for it to happen to other people

tldr always value your work and protect your passion from people who just see it as a product. and don't give cheeky pseudonyms i guess lol

(and again pls don't bother anyone involved about this. a lot of chaos has left my life as i moved past all this, and this is me closing a door without opening new ones hopefully lol)

this shit was truly

so ass.

but i'm moving past it now

but on a nicer note. outside of all of this nonsense, i made lots of good memories this year. i'm truly so grateful to the many wonderful people in my life who keep me going even when i fuck up big time!

and thank you to all of you strangers who, despite everything, give me the time of day. especially if you read this whole thing. you're a real one :')

happy new year!

[byfulcrums]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

[sleeplesscenarios]

those people who only write/translate/create content if there's a big audience that will kiss their ass and stroke their ego, but will lose motivation and drop projects when there's no big reaction or don't make content for smaller fandoms is seriously so weird to me. like you guys aren't just taken by some higher powers to make the most obscure of contents purely for self-indulgent purposes without even considering the pros and cons or if people care or don't care about it???

[fhrlclln]

underneath | qimir

SUMMARY -> ever since you found him and he trained you, he had always concealed his identity to you for his unknown reasons. you were always curious what he looks like underneath the cortosis helm he wears. though, this time the curiosity in you would be sated at last when a particular sparring session turns into an unexpected lesson in trust.

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> mild nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, sexual tension, mild violence, master/pupil dynamic & smut is at the end : P

WC -> 2.82k

a/n: surprise! another qimir fic cuz i can’t get him out of my head.

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

"have you ever wondered what he looks like underneath that mask?"

you asked your fellow pupil, mae, one day out of the blue. the particular reason for asking that question had always been because of your undying curiosity for the years you started to train under him.

your masked master.

"i don't." mae would answer, saying that she doesn't care what he would look like underneath the mask. saying that as long as he trains her, his identity doesn't matter to her. you understood her with that, she was his acolyte first and it probably dawned upon you that the years of concealing his identity to her she had thrown away the curiosity of what their master looked like.

but on the other hand, you, you somehow couldn't stop wondering.

you had found him or- he had found you when you were escaping your slave captors after your own sister had betrayed you in selling you to them. you were angry, in rage and unaware of the dormant power that had awoken in you with that rage you had felt. and in your fit of rage, you had managed to slaughter two of the captors chasing you, leaving you feeling guilty for your horrendous actions. you decided to escape and flee the planet. that is until by some chance, you had come across the masked stranger in the middle of the night who had told you about the gift you possessed, telling that you shouldn't be ashamed you used it in your self-defense.

and that's when he had took you under his wing, training you as his pupil.

he had taught you what your gift was, what your power is. he trained you, taught you and for the most part, despite him putting this distance between you and mae, he had helped you. and maybe that’s why you’re so curious to know who he is really, you wanted to see the master who had graciously accepted you despite you knowing your connection with the force was not as strong as mae’s.

he was… well, you could not really put a strong opinion on what kind of a man your master was. for the most part, he was always away and in training sessions, he was closed-off and distant. but when he spars with you and mae, that’s when a hint of his personality is peeking through.

rough, aggressive, strict. the way he spared with you had left you with tired sore knees and bruised arms when defending. on the offensive attacks you made he was quick to dodge and maneuver himself with your predictable attacks. he was ruthless in his combat but there was still that fluidity in it. but you knew he still held back with you despite the aggressiveness. you wished he had put more effort in your sparring sessions just like mae’s but you knew he was focusing more on her since she was at the brink of completing her lessons.

“safe travels, mae.” you wish her luck as she nods at you. the master had given her final lesson- to kill a jedi without a weapon. you were proud of your fellow acolyte but it did upset you how much you were falling behind. the waves splash in the background as you watch her walk to her ship. you wave her off as you saw it fly out the cloudy atmosphere then jumped into hyperspace, on the course to euda.

the sea breeze helps you gather your thoughts, and you wonder if the master would train you further today. seeing that mae had to learn this lesson by herself. sensing him, you feel the pull of the force as you turn around to see your master standing a few feet away from you.

the scene makes you remember that night when you found him. for a moment it did frighten you to see him loom over you when you fell to your knees from running. you were injured then and you had momentarily thought he was one of the slave traders that was trying to capture you. it took you a while to get used to him being like this when he appears out of the blue. well, for a random person, it would seem frightening to see a masked stranger dressed in black robes suddenly appear in mid-air. plus the saber tucked in his belt.

“master.” you greet him, anticipation lingering inside you.

“we shall continue your training today, my acolyte.” his modulated voice says. you feel your chest swell with excitement as you nodded. “be prepared.”

“of course, master.” you bowed slightly as he walks off to where the sparring lessons usually are. you smiled to yourself, maybe this time he’d finally put more effort in your training as you walk with a slight spring in your steps.

・゜゜・．

“focus.”

he says as your feet scraped against the rocks at his force push. you huff, your chest heaving, your leather tunic is starting to stick on your glistening sweaty skin, making you feel uncomfortable. you sigh, frustrated how you were not landing a single blow on him. your mind was elsewhere, seeming that you are still focused on wondering what he looks like underneath that mask.

“use that frustration. focus on your emotions.” he commands and you composed yourself, swatting the questions of his unknown face in your head. you ready yourself in a fighting stance, body facing to the side while you wave your arm in front of you. you clenched your fist for a moment as you heed into his words and attack. you use the force to heighten your leap towards him as you land a blow but he dodges again. an uppercut, he doges, a kick you do he dodges again. you feel yourself get even more irritated but in ease that he was finally not holding back when he blocks one of your blows with his arm.

but still, you were still not fighting the way he has to expect you to fight.

“you are too trustful in me, acolyte.” he scolds you, the modulated tone ringing. he backs away from you as you stopped, confused. yes, you indeed trust him, why was it a bad thing?

“i beg your pardon, master?” your breaths are labored and somehow from the close distance, you could hear him sigh underneath the mask.

“you are too trustful.” he says again. “do not trust me that i will not kill you even if i am training you. trust in yourself. we cannot continue this lesson if you do not learn to do that.” a chill runs through your spine at his words. there’s a slight pang of hurt in those words of his that were true. yes, he could kill you. why wouldn’t he if you failed him? you seem to stiffen at his words as he reminds you again, this time he will take the offensive attack.

“trust is a fragile thing. you cannot trust anyone but yourself, my acolyte. even if the person has sworn to trust you, they would eventually betray you. but yourself? you cannot betray yourself.” he explains as you nodded at his words. “when since you had put your whole trust in someone and they betrayed you in the end?”

you look at him, rage starting to boil in you when you remembered your own sister’s betrayal. your chest tightens and your mind is enraged with it. the pain she had put you in, the survival you had to do, the running you had to tire and the people you had to kill just to be free-

“there it is.” he says, proud. feeling your ever glowing rage.

“now, focus.” he suddenly attacks you as you dodged swiftly. both of you move in a tandem, as if it were a dance. the painful realization that even your master, the one who saved you and took you in, would eventually might betray you as well. the rage in you is at its boiling point as you let out a guttural scream when he almost aims for your neck. you push him back with your force then surging to him with heat in your steps as you attacked. he blocks your powerful blow with two of his arms forming an x. you kick him immediately on the stomach and he lurches, caught off guard.

you were too in to your emotions as you attacked and attacked. he tries to doge and block your every hit but he eventually succumbs to your rage when you finally kicked him to the ground. before he could stand, you immediately come on top of him, preventing that. you fist the collar of his robe, clenched hand in the air ready to land a final punch-

“excellent, my acolyte.” he cuts you off as you suddenly blink back into your rational self. you let go of his collar and you let yourself relax but ultimately surprised how close you are to him. you’re on top of him, your legs caging his waist and he seems not to dismiss you to get off. you can see clearly his helmet now, it was full of marks of previous battles. you take your time to admire him beneath you, how his adam’s apple bob and the sheen of sweat covering his bare muscular arms that were bulging with veins.

you blush, realizing you were staring at your master with ill thoughts.

but… the curiosity of what he looks like underneath it makes you wonder. your hand slowly comes up to his helmet and you feel him watch you with every move you make. he observes silently and you hovered your hand above his masked face. but you snap out of it again, realizing you could have offended him. and he could kill you for this. you know he takes great lengths to conceal his identity.

“a-apologies, master, i-“ before you could retract your hand and get off him. his hand suddenly grips your wrist. your eyes widened as he sits up and you adjust, hovering above his lap. he tilts his head to the side inquisitively, as if he was amused to see your curiosity be revealed. you stay quiet, staring at his masked face, waiting for his words. your cheeks are hot and you feel the anticipation grow in you. he places your hand on the side of his mask, the way he brushes your fingers softly makes you feel wobbly now.

“go on.” he merely says. you stutter, not knowing what to say. did he just agreed for you to remove his mask? your thoughts are jumbled but you succumb to your curiosity. you put both of your hands to both sides of his masked face. you slowly remove it inch by inch whilst you stared at the peaking facial features you have longed imagined what he looked like. you remove the helm completely and your heart skips a beat.

your eyes meet with a strangely beautiful dark ones.

his black hair is disheveled, his skin is smooth and his jawline is handsomely well chiseled. your eyes roam his face and it settles to his pink lips. you feel a hum of arousal between your legs when you look into his eyes again. his face is so close to yours that you can feel his hot breath tingle your lips. you put his helmet down to your side as the other brushes the black locks of his concealing his face. his pupils grow dark, your lips are inches to his and you somehow feel in-trance to lock it with yours.

this, this is the face of your master.

he’s beautiful. you think as you let out a noise when his other hand brush against your thigh. the other gently grips your hand that brushed his hair. you wondered why he had hidden his beautiful face from you and mae.

“master…” you plead as he smirks and it makes you blush.

“you did good today.” his low voice with a rasp of approval instead of the modulated one made your stomach churn and your thighs clench. the way his lips are still hovering above yours makes your head dizzy with the anticipation of what he’s doing. his top lip brushes against yours and he leans forward but before you could feel his soft lips lock with yours, you pull back. this is wrong.

“apologies, master.” you place your hands on his chest as you pulled yourself up to your feet. he seems taken aback for a moment with your rejection but composes himself as he eyes you up with a dark glint in his eyes.

“curiosity is normal. don’t be embarrassed.” he chuckles and that rings through your ears. the way he acts now is dissimilar to when he has his mask on and it baffles you how human he now is. you don’t know what to say, fearing that you have failed him in almost every way. you watch him stand up then grabbed his helmet and he looks at you. something in his gaze shines with hunger.

“we’ll continue our lesson another time.” he walks pass you and the brush of his arm against yours makes your heart jump.

“yes, master.” the initial shock of the situation still hasn’t faded when he’s out of your sight. you gulp, sweat dripping down your forehead. was he not upset that you know his face now? would he kill you for it later perhaps? those questions hang in the air. your heart still beats remembering his lips close to yours. you turn back, walking back to the shore, there’s a feeling you can’t seem to place as you let your thoughts linger on your master’s revealed face.

・゜゜・．

you dry your face with a rag then pulled a fresh tunic and bottoms from your pile of fresh clean robes. the dimness of the light inside your room in the cave made it comforting for your wild thoughts. you put on the brown tight bottoms then the grey tunic. but those thoughts soon come alive when you felt a presence near the entrance of your room.

you turn around swiftly, seeing your master standing right by the concave opening of your room. no mask on but just wearing… perfectly normal clothing. he dawned a white tunic and usual black bottoms, his hair is slicked back, damp from his bath you presumed. you stand awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. you were used to his mysterious persona.

“you did exceptionally well today.” he begins with a praise. “but, i am surprised how focused you are on knowing what i look like.”

“thank you.” you merely say, eyes shying away when he points out your curiosity. “i apologize for that, master.”

“don’t be.” he steps forward and each step he takes has an anticipation behind them. you stay in your place, taking in how comforting he looks. “i’m glad for your curiosity.” he confesses.

“you are?” you are surprised with that.

qimir nods, adoring the way you seemed so surprised. he had his reasons for concealing his identity to you and mae. it was for to create a distance between the master and pupil. he feared attachment might overcome why he took you under his wing. he knows you already saw him as a person who finally cared for you and in truth, he does. you are a gifted woman with the force and over the years despite the distance he placed, you managed to crawl into his cold heart.

“but i fear your curiosity isn’t sated enough.” he points out and the atmosphere in the room changes. you know what he means. when you had almost kissed him but you hesitated, fearing that things might change drastically after that. he was your master after all. he steps closer to you, the distance is just like the one moments ago.

“am i right?” he asks when you stare at his lips. you wondered if mae would be enraged for what you are about to do as your body moved at its own accord.

you surge forward and lock your lips with his.

and that ends up with you sprawled underneath him. your curiosity is sated and he rewards you more with a thrust of his hips with his cock inside you. you clench around him, your hands caressing the width of his broad back. here you are, your naked body pressed against his as you moan in his ear. he groans, suckling the soft flesh of your neck.

“master…” you sigh, legs wrapped around tight on his waist. his hands are holding your thighs in place as he thrusts his cock into your warm heat. he locks eyes with your heavy one and it makes him soar at the feeling of you wrapped around him. he smirks as he kisses you hotly as he grinds his hips down.

your curiosity indeed was successfully sated by him.

[askshivanulegacy]

SHIPPING MEME!! 2, 3, 4, 5 (>.>), 14, 15, 26!

THANK

2. Talk about three of the most important ships throughout your life.

HMMMM. I'm going to include platonic ships in this, and they're all ships I've RP'd. Also, there are definitely more than 3 super important ships, so these are definitely NOT all of them.

(Platonic) Zack/Angeal/Genesis/Sephiroth from Final Fantasy 7. My first-ever set of online RPs. Really how I got into RP and art and writing! Still love them. I want to pick up the new games at some point, and I still have old fics on my to-do list.

Blakk and Saare-ha. An unplanned ship, but so good. the RP here is how I got into SWTOR. Still my canon storyline and I hope to finish some day!

Blakk and Ahuska. One of my current major ships and responsible for a few other most excellent ships, as well as some most excellent projects. >3

All of these ships and ones I haven't mentioned are of course responsible for hooking me up with my most bestest online friendships. What could be better than stories and fandoms and friends? ♥♥♥

3. What’s your current OTP?

I have several ships with Blakk that I love: Blakk/Ahuska, Blakk/Der, Blakk/Zim, Blakk/Zim/Der/Ahuska. Ofc, as my main OC, I love all my ships with him, even if they aren't listed. ♥

ALSO, I love Watcher Five/Cipher Thirteen/Crow aaaaand whoever else may or may not get wrapped up into that. 8) Cipher 13 is my newest trash child and he's amazing. >3

4. What’s your current NOTP?

Ahahahaha ... Shuri and Namor (Wakanda Forever). There's SO many things about this ship that I find extremely disagreeable.

Namor's entire arc starts with a gaslighting trip ("it's your fault I'm attacking you because you won't join me in worldwide genocide"), followed by the lovely murder of Shuri's mother. Despite his supposed agreement to stand down from his warmongering ways, he ends the movie with a renewed commitment to beat Wakanda the moment he can find a way to do it. Not once does he express remorse or any genuine desire to co-exist with Wakanda. As long as they refuse to be his tool to take over the world and/or commit mass genocide, they are his enemy. Shuri certainly (and rightfully) showed no interest in him in the whole movie. She's honestly got better things on her mind, not the least of which is her mother's murder. It's a sign of her own character growth that she even let him live after his murder spree. But at the end of the movie, Namor had no character growth: he's the same as he was at the beginning, except beaten.

I look at this ship and all I can ask is WHY. Maybe there's room in a future movie for him to develop as a character (after all, this was Shuri's story, and not his), but right now it's a ship I just can't stomach lol. It's such a weird ship. It doesn't recognize anything that happened in the movie. I appreciate a good bad guy ship, but there's nothing compelling in Namor even as a character to achieve that the way he was portrayed. And the funny thing is that it's not even presented as the random OOC ship it is, or even a solid hate-ship, it's presented like there's a basis for Shuri and Namor to actually have a loving relationship ... and there isn't. She's a child. He's a centuries-old child throwing a temper tantrum that nobody else in his entire underwater kingdom probably understands. He murdered her mother and said it was their own fault. Just nope.

People can ofc ship whoever they want, but this is the first ship I've seen that I've been so opposed to even seeing the art on my dash. These tender, loving glances between Shuri and Namor?? Wot??? Like, did we watch the same movie?? Doesn't seem like it, lol.

5. Do you have any poly ships?

I DO IN FACT. 8)

(SWTOR OCs) Watcher 5/Cipher 13/Crow +/- Ulfran is a CURRENT FAVE. Ahuska floats around on the fringes. 8)

Derrick/Blakk/Zim/Ahuska is another fun one, and I've had a couple others over the years. >3

14. How do you feel about will they/won’t they?

An excellent trope, especially in slow burn action. >3

15. Have you ever “shipped at first sight”?

Not that I recall, actually. The characters have to reveal themselves first, along with their motivations and how they tie into the story. I don't ship just anyone, and I don't do it just based on the appearance of characters. I'm also not a super frequent shipper either. I default to canon relationships all the time with zero desire to change it and zero desire to delve into fanfiction. I have to really connect to the characters and want to see more of them before I think about shipping.

26. Have you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic you’re more drawn to?

Now that I think about it I GUESS THERE IS.

I seem to lean strongly into angsty bad boy + heart of gold, or angsty bad boy + power figure. Honestly, as long as there's a stabby, desperate, angst bucket, my shipping radar boots up. XDD

[gb-patch]

GB Patch Games: Response About Sensitivity Reader

[Some of you might not have heard of this happening, but I wanted to address it across the board]

Hey everyone,

I want to make a post about the screenshots of comments from one of our sensitivity readers. The situation is that neither me or Rose want people to feel uncomfortable with Our Life: Now & Forever, but Rose hasn’t done anything terribly wrong and isn’t going to be punished.

The comment about OL MCs wasn’t meant to be genuine hatred towards all male players/MCs of OL. Rose wrote a reply about it-

"Hi everyone! This is Rose, I want to address the male MC comment since it was taken wildly out of context and without the lengthy discussion that was after it. I don't hate male MCs, in fact far from it, male MCs are integral to the story in OL:NF as female and trans MCs are. I think the relationship they could potentially have with Qiu could be a great asset in my opinion as they figure out their gender alongside the MC. The discussion itself was about how I noticed players were sticking to heteronormative norms by shipping Tamarack with a man purely out of societal norms than it was genuine thought into the characters and how I personally wished there was more sapphic relationships with Tamarack or just Tamarack with trans characters as a sapphic trans person myself. I didn't mean to offend anyone by it as no one but my friends who understood what I legitimately meant behind my message and it definitely wasn't meant to be seen seriously. I am sorry regardless to anyone I have offended and I love your male MCs regardless."

And most of the comments were about me. I’ve seen screenshots of the full conversations and they’re not as harsh as the cropped snippets made them out to be. It was longer discussions about not including Derek in any base game Moments for no good reason and not having any plus-sized love interests in OL1 because I was afraid players wouldn’t accept it. That’s not a lie, it’s what I decided for the game I created, and it is ridiculous of me. I’m the one who should be feeling embarrassed over how OL1 will forever be that way, not the people who remember that I did that. I’m not perfect and Rose actually cares more about the players than making me feel like I am flawless.

I also don’t want to tone police an employee venting about their boss in private, on their own time. Both the OL games deal with personal, important topics. This is sensitive work, and it can bring up frustrations. Sometimes people do use harsh words among friends, but they wouldn’t ever say it to a person seriously and directly.

I understand if you wouldn’t want to see anyone speak badly of a dev you like, but I promise it’s not a point of contention between me and Rose. I don’t feel mistreated in anyway. Rose genuinely cares about the Our Life series, and that’s why they get fed up with me over certain parts of the game.

Rose has never been unkind or unreasonable to me when working on the project, and their advice is detailed and well-explained. They do care about the game and want it to avoid having content that upsets people because of my own ignorance/shortcomings.

This being shared publicly from a private server is targeting Rose and seems to be a continuation of things that have happened before this. I don’t want this to continue happening. If you do still have concerns over the one comment about the community, you can let me know. But again, I don’t want people being mistrustful of Rose on my behalf for comments about me in conversations with missing context.

Do not send angry messages to Rose about any of this. We’ll do our best so that OL2 will be better than I was before. Thank you to everyone who reads this and participates in the community!