#Let me know if I need to tag this for ableism

[neon-draws-sometimes]

why am I likethis (I mean I know why) why are all my interests so weird /not neg

utmv, dolls furbies, obscure games, weird indie stufd

anyway guess what I’m getting into now

ringtonecharacter. Psycho teddy/ dj teddy z. I love obsure/lost stuff and stufffron the early internet days so it his the spot. There’s a scrapped show with them?? A lost German commercial. Many differing cuts of commercials for no reason.

[phleb0tomist]

society at large seems to want less people to have to use wheelchairs and mobility aids. yet the world is not set up to protect or accommodate people’s bodies at all. undue physical strain obviously worsens disability, and yet rest is a huge social sin, while hustle culture and ‘willpower’ are king. everyone is impatient toward people who can’t walk or stand for long. it’s ‘disruptive’ to stand in ‘weird’ positions or to need to reposition regularly. many jobs discourage or ban staff from working while seated, even if sitting doesn’t impact their job at all. this crap leads a lot of people to deteriorate to the point of needing mobility aids they wouldn’t’ve needed if only their bodies were given the respectful and liberating space they deserved.

hostile architecture & increasing lack of public seating, poor public transport systems, bizarre hatred toward anyone who walks slowly or clumsily or needs ‘extra’ rest, insistence that an average person should be able to work on their feet 12hrs at a time with only 20mins break... all of these things tip people from being technically able bodied to needing mobility aids. some of these things contribute to permanent worsening of people’s disabilities.

almost like the system is not built with people’s wellbeing in mind and is actually structured to force people to push themselves, so we all end up feeling responsible for our alleged inadequacies of willpower and health when we can’t keep up

[pigswithwings]

but genuinely if you default to saying that random people and things have psychosis as an insult. you gotta change that. you have to think about why you say that. "this is psychotic" stop that shit. "these people are psychopaths" stop it. stop it what the hell. come on. real people have psychosis you think they aren't already associated with negative things? you think that helps anyone?

[shizunitis]

old man yells at cloud: shen qingqiu and the fandom

cw: discussions of homophobia, abuse & ableism

this was not supposed to get this long, or this disorganised. there’s also a lot of profanity because i am who i am. i half-apologise. annoyed/-ing yapping continues under the cut. i’ll reward u at the end with something i promise

look. listen. hear me out

i agree that shen “yuan” qingqiu is oblivious and it’s funny to see him panic and scramble for a foothold in the insane world of pidw, but some of you honestly sound like you think he should be drawn and quartered for having trauma.

y’all safely out of the closet, loved, accepted and supported since the womb? is that it? you’ve never hurt someone by believing lies purposely fed to you by “the system”? lies that, when questioned, get you punished or shunned? you’ve never been guilty? you’ve never been scared? you’ve never had to hide a part of yourself to be accepted? you’ve never been frustrated by your loved ones’ insistence that “they know better”?

“mxtx wrote a novel where the internet troll gets his comeuppance for bullying the poor author” cannot coexist with “abuse/pain/unjust punishment cannot give birth to a healthy society”. either you want shen yuan broken and made into something else more palatable to you, or you want him to be free to dote on and protect binghe and heal. it is clear what the story chose to do.

there’s a whole ass novel out here that’s basically screaming “be compassionate! be kind! be vulnerable! accept others as they come! solipsism is a bullshit thought experiment and not some grand theory about the nature of the universe!” and yet you’ve somehow, as if hungry for blood, focused solely on the shortcomings of a lost, inexperienced young man trying to make the best of his situation while being coerced by an omniscient, omnipotent, asshole of a god.

there is no clearer allegory in modern media about the destructive influence of coercion, brainwashing, and thought policing, than the one presented in svsss. and yet! here i fucking am, coffee-less, reading with my own two eyes corpsezun-cold ass takes on the “proper” ways of navigating self-discovery.

i hate having to be the one to tell someone to touch grass, so i’ll just urge you to read something else, something literal and educational about the struggles of queer/disabled/vulnerable people in unkind societies (all of them) and outright hostile ones (most of them). watch documentaries, seek out the elders of your communities, think back on your own unpleasant experiences, speak with people you don’t agree with and approach conversations with curiosity. lurk in fandoms before you post.

this is something you’ve internalised: that a queer person must be pure of mind and spirit to expect compassion. that a vulnerable person you deem weak must not be listened to since clearly, someone else knows better. that someone who makes a mistake/misunderstands something should be shunned, or at the very least berated in spite of having already faced the consequences of their actions.

y’all don’t have to love everyone to be kind to them and understand them. and honestly trying to “punish” a repressed queer man for how he’s choosing to survive in a hostile environment by spouting borderline-cruel bullshit about his thoughts that never leave his brain just tells me that you have done close to no self-assessment and are liable to hurt people by accidentally saying some horrendous shit you don’t even realise is painful to hear.

as you have done, and keep doing, especially when seriously and without a moment of reflection you post non-jokey “haha shen yuan is stupid and oblivious of course that happened. every friend he has trying to assert control over his choices is a just and reparative consequence of his stupid pea-brained attempt to survive. the system was good actually.”

i fucking love making ‘liu qingge was a victim’/‘lmao bingy is horny gripping shizun connect the dots’/‘shizun cannot be trusted outside for more than half an hour’/‘lmao ballad of bingqiu’ jokes because yeah! that happens! you get people who crush on you! people sometimes get infatuated with you! sometimes people get very invested in your life! sometimes people worry and care even if you don’t realise it!and it is somewhat comical in hindsight, a bit endearing, a lot bewildering, but ultimately mundane and entirely human!

until it actually starts affecting you in real ways. until people try to corral your movements because they “can’t trust you to be safe” without listening to you, a grown ass adult who clearly knows something they don’t. until your own mistakes come to bite you in the ass and, when you’ve fucking fixed it, you get berated and judged for it because others’ self-righteousness takes precedence.

good people learn and change and take responsibility for hurting those around them. they allow those who have erred to find a better path forward. they act with compassion and respect for even the most undesirable of their peers.

there are many messages in svsss that you can learn from. while it falls short in some aspects (naturally, by virtue of being written by a high-schooler), it does not fail in presenting a human perspective on fucked-up circumstances and asking you to understand and empathise.

characters are there to hold up a mirror for you. it’s a safe, consequence-free opportunity to look inwards and decide if you’re okay, or if some things might need addressing.

fandom is a playpen and you get to do whatever you want forever to the dolls. but your playmates are real people who, in some cases, are susceptible to your influence, and will be hurt by how you choose to present your commentary. when they leave the sandbox and see the distorted reflection of your arguments come alive in the real world, they will then internalise it, just as you have.

and then i’ll have to read it and it’s, frankly, depressing to see what my Not Homophobic, Very Woke (lie) high-school classmates would say all over again. is that what you want? to be likened to a 15 year-old eastern european boy? really?

obviously i’m not talking about jokes, bits, comedies, haha hehe’s, or fanfic depictions that i may not agree with from a storytelling standpoint.

i’m not the mayor of who-gets-to-talk-ville, but i’ve lived all my life in a deeply homophobic, racist, ableist and economically fucked country of former soviet influence and it just, like, annoys me to see the same sentiments in these kinds of spaces coming from inexperienced/young people who just don’t realise the impact of their own ignorance. i hope i’ve made this clear even if i sound like a finger-wagging dirty-mouthed grandpa yelling at the kids on my lawn.

fuck i’m so tired

anyway. here’s the reward:

ah… that makes me feel so much better. <3

[burgershapedidiot]

Hey therians of Tumblr! I've not made one of these posts before, but if you have clinical lycanthropy/zoanthropy or just want to support our neurodivergent friends, please block this person!

They commented this (under my comment) under a tiktok post that was saying that you shouldn't demonize these disorders and that they shouldn't be ridiculed for what they can't control.

1. That's not the only thing people say to them. 2. Why are you throwing your fellow people with a disability under the bus?

Idk if I'm overreacting but this was definitely not nice to see from a big creator. Let's not exclude members of our community that have been around since the AHWW days!

[hexastitchimera]

Hey friends, I've noticed that it's that time of year where people are being nasty, specifically and especially to us madfolk. If you've gone through that personally, I'm very sorry, and you have my solidarity & support.

However, if you'd like to know something that helps me a lot, is in relation to the dreaded rhetoric of:

[ TW: reality questioning / gaslighting ]

|

"Reality is a simulation!!"

"Life is an illusion!!"

"You can't prove anybody else exists!!"

|

[ /End TW ]

And all the others exactly like them.

Though I used to be very distressed over these claims, I've found a way to cope with them that doesn't involve lying to yourself and your rightful anxieties. If anything, it can foster a better sense of trust in ourselves, as well as a confidence boost.

When this rhetoric pops up, I tell myself:

"This does not and will not change how I have been living thus far. I will continue to live my life as usual."

"Even if that was true/real, there is inherent power in being unaffected and living life as usual despite knowing so."

And, most importantly, "MY lived experience is my LIVED experience, illusion or not."

Nothing about ferociously affirming- or denying- any aspect of what is "truly real" or not. You are focusing on and validating the experience of the most important POV in your existence, which is to say yourself and your own.

Though I am fully aware that, in the heat of the moment, our brains will respond in protective albeit intense ways, practice practice practice. Personally, I had to coax myself for nearly a month's worth of episodes before this technique started digesting.

Once your brain makes the pathways and connections however, you will find that it gets easier. It doesn't have to ever be "cured"- I still get paranoid myself over reality- but it can be mitigated for YOUR safety and comfort.

Because at the end of the day, YOU are here. YOU deserve nothing but peace, safety, good health, good company, and good times. Never let anybody- especially non-madfolk and psychiatry- tell you otherwise.

Love & Solidarity to you All,

- Delta 💜

[resonette]

also i'm sorry, it's probably because i'm disabled, but it drives me UP THE MF WALL that the mc of l&ds is coded to be disabled (by having a heart condition) but then chooses to blatantly ignore her doctor's medical advice. one of my MAJOR canon divergencies is that regardless of the situation, it takes a LOT for seren to ignore the medical advice she is given so long as it is a medical professional giving it to her (zay.ne, grey.son, y.vonne, etc). as someone who is disabled, it takes a lot for doctors to earn my trust, so given the fact that canonically, the doctor of the MC is a family friend, and the team at akso hospital are not only 1) highly prestigious and awarded, 2) seem to care about their patients rather than dismissing their concerns, i feel like they absolutely would have earned seren's trust and, therefore, she doesn't want to break their trust in being a poor patient or making her condition worse.

does seren do things that are dangerous because she has a dangerous profession? yes. does she put herself at risk by doing these things? yes. but those are occupational hazards that she is consenting to because of her selflessness rather than a need for rebellion or because she thinks she knows better. if any of the akso team were to hit her with concerning lab reports, she would take some time off. that's why her behavior in chapters 8-9 of the msq are so concerning: she's ignoring their advice because she is passively seeking her own end as a result of failing to cope with the grief of what's happened to josephine and caleb.

it isn't something to laugh off to me, nor do i intend to portray it as such. tbh, any content in the game where one of the LIs is commenting on the MC's recklessness is, to me, done when seren has lapses or judgement or when she's not doing well.

[genshinincorrectly]

okay, I need to talk about this. i feel like I’ve build up a nice little community here, and this is impacting the entire genshin community as a whole. it’s my responsibility as a blog which focuses around genshin and has many people who interact with it to address these horrifying events.

if you’re not on Twitter, here’s the deal: Tighnari’s english va has been exposed for taking advantage of fans, being a pedophile, transphobic, misogynist, groomer, ableist, emotionally and sexually abusive, and racist.

the link will take you to a Google doc which details all of this. if you can’t handle it, then please don’t read it (I couldn’t). I’m so sorry if any of my followers were affected by his awful behavior, and I’m also sorry to those who thought he was a good person and looked up to him.

and a if you support this monster, get off of my blog. we don’t want you here. if anyone defends him on this post, you will instantly be blocked.

[agayconcept]

.

[jinxed-ninjago]

Fuck it, I'm explaining the end of the fic I posted last night lmao

Alright for anyone who hasn't read it, here's the link to the promo post (which has additional important information in it). I JUST WANT TO DUMP HEADCANONS LOL.

If you don't care about being spoiled, basically at the end of the fic I decided to imply that Fungus has a habit of "blaming Plundar for being a victim of circumstances as a teenager," which stems from a headcanon I have regarding Plundar's kleptomania and how I headcanon his past. I've discussed Plundar's kleptomania a few times before, but basically, the show implies that Plundar's a kleptomaniac, which in medical terms means he impulsively steals things that have little to no value to him or that he would be able to afford. Essentially kleptomania is an impulse control disorder that results in theft.

This initially stemmed from Plundar's line of "Sorry, force of habit" when Fungus tells him to give Cole his weapon back in Dungeon Party. The phrasing from Plundar -- specifically, Plundar using the term "force of habit" -- implies that he's committed theft often enough that it's become an impulse he no longer has control over. This would mean that at some point in the past, he got to a point where he committed enough thefts to end up losing his impulse control related to theft.

When it comes to shit like theft, using "force of habit" to explain why you did something implies you have an impulse control disorder. I'd say the same thing about my skin picking, as I have a habit of picking at the skin around my nails to the point that, yeah, saying I do it by force of habit wouldn't be entirely inaccurate.

Now that the filler is out of the way, let's get into the nitty-gritty of why I wrote Plundar telling off Fungus for blaming him for being a victim of circumstances.

Before I continue, I personally like to think that Plundar was on his own for a while before he met Fungus, at which point he was around 16 or 17. I elaborated on it some more in this post so if you want some more context for how I headcanon Plundar's past, go to that post.

Because of everything I imagine happened in Plundar's past, I would be surprised if he didn't resort to petty thievery to make himself feel better. This would be the most likely culprit for his kleptomania; he made a habit out of stealing and eventually that stealing spiraled out of control and he lost his ability to control the impulse to steal in the first place. It's made abundantly clear in the dialogue and animation that Fungus doesn't approve of Plundar's thievery; hell, look at his expression when he tells Plundar to give Cole his throwing star back!

I also brought this up a few days ago, but the Upply's dynamic is fascinating when it comes to their interactions with each other.

Plundar pretty consistently interacts in a more friendly manner with Korgran than he does with Fungus, and it seems to be mutual on Fungus's side (by which I mean Fungus also acts in a more friendly manner with Korgran when you compare his interactions with Plundar to his interactions with Korgran). Plundar and Fungus seem to find each other mutually irritating, and considering Plundar's entire character (being a thief) seems to go against Fungus's morals, I'm not surprised in the slightest.

Plundar telling Fungus off for blaming him for being a victim of circumstances he was in as a teenager in Ain't It Fun was referring to this headcanon of Plundar resorting to theft for his emotional wellbeing and eventually survival as a teenager that eventually spiraled into a total lack of impulse control; Fungus being irritated by Plundar's complete lack of ability to stop himself from stealing would come off as victim blaming with that in mind.

One of the things I actively tried to show in Ain't It Fun was Plundar being nervous to get help, and not specifically because he was committing crimes, but also because getting help is fucking hard (something I additionally tried to show through Cole's behavior and attitude towards Plundar's coping mechanisms). Sometimes it takes a near death experience to realize you need help, and even when you realize you need help and accept the help that's been offered to you, shit happens. If I decide to continue Ain't It Fun, Plundar's interaction with Fungus is gonna be incredibly limited because in his position, having Fungus around isn't gonna help him.

The reason I had Plundar effectively cut Fungus off at the end of Ain't It Fun wasn't for angst points; it was because in Plundar's position, having Fungus around is only going to do more harm. Fungus is canonically irritated by what is fundamentally an impulse control disorder that Plundar has.

I fucking love the Upply, but I genuinely don't think Plundar and Fungus have a healthy dynamic. Even if Plundar wasn't a victim as a teenager I'd argue he's a victim of Fungus. Plundar's implied to have an impulse control issue, and Fungus's attitude towards Plundar's lack of impulse control is ableist frankly. They've known each other for years, and Fungus still acts like Plundar having an impulse control disorder says fucking anything about his morals.

[trans-leek-cookie]

Not adding to previous post bc yeag but I hate when books save their weird bullshit until near the end. Like w fanfic its upsetting bc it's upsetting but with books theres the knowledge that multiple ppl had to go "yeah this is fine. No changes necessary"

Under a read more bc I complain in actual details abt an incest scene, inaccurate and harmful depiction of DID, and shitty treatment of an SA victim + Biphobia by the narrative

Like I read an interesting mystery book and then it had a flashback to a scene that was two young(I forget exactly how old) twins touching eachother sexually and it was like one of them saying "it's okay bc were the same person" and to be clear i don't think it was meant to be seen as abusive or assault but rather an example of how deep their bond was???

Also a sci Fi book w a woman who's like... entire crew died or something? And they became her alters? And it's implied she got DID from said crew dying? Or she killed them bc of her DID? And also I say she had DID because the book NAMEDROPS DISSOCIATIVE IDENTITY DISORDER WHILE HAVING MISINFORMATION ABOUT HOW IT IS DEVELOPED AND PERPETUATING ABLEIST STEREOTYPES ABOUT IT. like that's an extra slap in the face (and she slices one of the MC's arms to show that the 2 MCs are being fucking carbon monoxide poisoned. And then the MCs leave a random different minor antagonist with her like "that'll teach him" WHAT. GO TO HELL

Then there's the other mystery book where theres like two or three MCs I forget but it's like a college girl named Talulah and a woman who's new to the town idk if the Talulahs mom is an MC or just a major character and Talulah gets into a relationship w a bi girl and Talulahs abusive ex comes in and her gf kills him and her mom drugs them both and hides the body and keeps Talulah captive and thats like tbe big mystery whicj is eh but also TGF (talulahs GF) before the murder tells her she was raped by a teacher and hasnt been able to open up about that. And also later on she cheats on talulah with her ex boyfriend because you know biphobia. Like I think talulah (who is presented as correct) is like "I can't trust u bc ur not committed" and idk if she explicitly mentions the bisexuality but it's pretty obvious she's referring to the bisexuality bc like at the begining Talulahs like idk if I can get into a relationship w someone who isn't committed to me and like. AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH. Anyway I don't think it's evil to have an SA victim be not great in the story but I feel like in this case it's just an extra part of her backstory that isn't well handled and adds fucking nothing to the story and has nothing interesting to say about how SA affects ppl bc it's like. Well it's there maybe to contrast with Talulahs ex? Who fucking knows not me and I read the damn book I guess!!!!!

[evalynnmesserli]

Sometimes I forget that I’ve had two separate chucks of flesh gouged out of my leg due to two separate middle school gym incidents where I told the p.e. teachers that I couldn’t do the thing because of a problem with my knee only for them to insist that I try anyways and falling in a way that left me a literal bloody mess was the only way to avoid my knee being removed from its usual place and causing me worse pain and making future surgery even more difficult and this whole thing had to happen twice before my mom had to go ahead and yell at the school to keep it from happening a third time and for the teachers to just listen to me in the first place

And sometimes I remember :)

[vixletserenity]

👁‍🗨

Send a 👁‍🗨 to peer into my muse’s mindscape -accepting

Another night of arguing and yelling had passed. The amount of nights like this had been growing more and more; it has been nearly three months since this all started.

She sat there curled up and crying in the corner of her room that mommy made sure to be a small area she could use to feel some form of safety. Most of her plushes were here and a soft rug covered the floor. It was clear that the room had been remodeled recently, with lighter areas that barely had any dust still visible against the walls and floor.

That was when the door had opened suddenly as daddy angrily stomped into the room. "Come 'ere." He grumbled as he forcefully pulled his daughter's hand to the center of the room. "Nooo!" Celeste wailed as she tried her hardest to fight back, but ultimately failed.

An item was visible in daddy's hand. It was a belt. Without a second thought, Axel began striking the girl with the belt over and over and over again.

"Why is it that you're that one who lived?!" He shouted as the force being used became harder. Celeste continued wailing in pain; her body flinching each time the belt striked against her. "Heeelp!" She yelled the loudest she possibly could.

But no one was there to answer her cries. Mommy and Charlotte had gone grocery shopping.

"You took the daughter that I wanted away from me! You won't be getting any help this time!" Axel retorted angrily. The sharp pain that could be felt along with the feeling that something had split open on her back.

The scars had reopened.

It was then that the entry way door opened up, "We're home!" she could hear mommy call out as footsteps approached the room. "Dear?" Nova had called before she stopped and gasped to see the scene.

"WHAT IN ARCEUS'S NAME ARE YOU DOING?!"

Axel had finally stopped the beating. "Mom...Mommy...." Celeste whimpered as she attempted to reach out for Nova, but screamed in pain from the movement. Nova quickly went and scooped up Celeste from the floor, noticing a small pool of blood on the floor.

"It's ok baby." Nova comforted her crying daughter, "Mommy's here now. Everything'll be okay, I promise."

Nova had quickly gotten her shoes on and passed by Charlotte. "What....What happened to Celeste, Mommy?" She asked, "I need to take your sister to the hospital; the bad scratches on her back reopened." Nova tried to explain before closing the door,

A few hours had passed and the phone ringed; Axel had answered it. "When I get home, you and I are having a talk." It was Nova on the other end.

[tubbo--updates]

i've heard a bit about this before but i do not know the full context of it (if anyone has a full vod or more context please feel free to share it with me!!!)

at the end of the day tubbo and aimsey are friends, they interact a lot online and do a bunch with eachother in person. i don't think it would be fair to exclude interactions that include aimsey because of that, due to these updates being some peoples main (or only) source to see/know about a lot of what tubbo says and does.

that being said, i also do not stand by any of those things if they're true.

i will always tag updates that include aimsey with both the tags "aimsey" and "aimseytv", so always feel free to block those, and if you would like me to start tagging updates including them with a specific tag (ie any special wording, spacing, capitalization, etc), let me know and i can start doing that :D

Tubbo is in Aimsey's tweet from 18:16 BST

[fan-goddess]

A Rose by Any Other Name…

Original Request: Is tagged here if ya wanna read :)

Authors Note: I'm so mixed with this i love some parts yet hate others it's 50/50. Other than that though I adore this au request and hope i did it justice. Just a headsup they're ngl both toxic stupid younglings.

Word count: 9k words (wow...)

Taglist: @humanpurposes @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Warnings: Pain, chronic pain, pain flare ups due to chronic pain, soulmates, fluff, angst, actually loving parents, not really a mention of her features only eyes, called a woman and referred to as she/her pronouns, self ableism, a more darker!aemond, implied abuse of royal power, Aemond ngl being lowkey toxic so they both stupid af (if I miss any let me know)

When first learning about soulmates and the fates which follow them, you had prayed to all the seven gods that you would never be misfortune enough to have one. That you should never feel the pain your soulmate felt with flowers marking your skin.

Your mother did not have one, nor did your father or any of your relatives before them, as according to them the whole thing was actually quite rare among the whole of the seven kingdoms.

Though you suppose you never had been very lucky. It was probably what praying to the stranger did to you.

Your first encounter with those damn deep blue flowers that stung while they branded you was on your legs and your abdomen. According to your septas and the lone maester who was permitted to treat your marks, they looked like marks given to a boy beginning his training in combat.

To them, this was seen as an honor, as it meant if you ever got the opportunity to meet him he could protect you. But to you, this merely meant that you were going to need to get used to that incessant stinging. They never knew what it felt like to feel those damn flowers plaguing your body, but not even you knew how to fully describe what it was like. The only way you could even dare think about it if you were truly forced too, was that it was a death sentence.

You never thought through the few years that passed after making the discovery of possessing a soulmate that the pain could get quite worse. But it appears like always, the idea of luck was not on your side.

It was a strange feeling to wake to a flower blooming on the skin of your left eye. The pain was what you focused on most however, as to be awoken to what you could only describe as being fire scorching your skin was something you could never truly describe but know for the rest of your life. Compared to your earlier marks and the pains that came with them, those were merely like when the septas would swiftly hit the ruler over your knuckles.

While you screamed and writhed in pain in your childhood bed, the maester took quick work in forcing milk of the poppy down your aching throat while the small group of septas held back your worrying mother and father who stood scared in the doorway. The medicines effects soon took its place though to yours and everyone's relief, and you were taken in some sort of daze like sleep.

When you awoke a few hours later with your head still fuzzy and a cooling salve slathered patch over your eye, your father was sitting on a chair propped to the edge of the bed tightly holding your hand while your mother slept beside you above the covers.

"Oh my darling, we were so worried!" Your father said, pulling you into a close embrace that woke your mother up from her sleep. By the way the skin underneath her eyes was darkened and how she yawned as soon as she sat up, you could tell she had been trying to stay up all night for you, and the very idea of it made you smile with gratitude you knew other children did not possess. "You gave us such a fright when we heard you screaming so late at night! What happened?"

"I... I do not know father," You said truthfully, your hand unconsciously going to remove the patch from your eye, but stopping when your father grabs your hand and gives you a stern glare that reminds you of your youth, specifically whenever you would steal an extra lemon bar after dinner. "All I remember is falling asleep and then waking to this horrendous pain in my eye and all around it..."

You have a faraway look in your eye as you find yourself unable to look at your mother and fathers lingering questioning gaze. They may not have ever said it, but you can tell that they pity you greatly for the path the gods have pushed you on. You thought this soulmate of yours was some training knight-to-be. But what knight-to-be experienced battle as harsh as having damage to his eye as horrific as you felt it to be? It did possibly occur to you that your soulmate may actually be a hardened knight with years of experience on the battlefield. But after bringing up the concern with your maester, he assured you that the marks you bore would be a lot worse if he was truly some older knight, a kingsguard or even a goldcloak.

Later that day after being ordered to eat lots to restore your energy, your maester came by that evening to visit and check on your mark. His words were kind as he assured you it would've most likely gone down in its intensity since you barely felt anything now except some throbbing from your socket. According to him, while you lay screaming from the pain, a deep blue flower had taken over your entire socket where the pain had bloomed from, in a strange fascinating way making your eye its center.

His touch was gentle as he slowly peeled back the fabric. Yet his face which once held a supportive smile turns to shock and pure horror once you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Maester, what is the matter?” You ask, biting your lip in pure anxiety as he says nothing but stares at your eye. He does not even look away as he grabs a mirror by your bedside table and hands it too you.

When you look into it though, you do not realize what is so wrong except for some small petal edges that leak from around your eye. But then you look more closely and realize with a loud gasp how your once green eye is now a deep blue, and when you close it you gasp again as you comprehend how now a flower has bloomed on your eyelid.

“What… what has happened, maester?!” You yell, unable to look away from your newly changed face.

“I do not know exactly my lady,” The maester begins, forcibly snatching the mirror from your hands so you’re forced to look at him and listen. “The whole written topic of soulmates to my knowledge is so little given at how rare they are, so there is truly not much advice to give you. The basic idea though as I told you when your condition first developed, is that when he is in pain, you are to have a flower bloom on your skin where the pain originates. There is no record I’m afraid of this condition affecting the physical body except from the blooming flowers and the pain that comes with it.”

You stay quiet as you listen to the maester, tears build up as you realize your life shall not be the same. While the idea of having two different coloured eyes is a condition seen around the seven kingdoms, it is still a noticeable thing that would draw attention of the people.

And honestly, you were not sure if you wanted to meet your soulmate. This latest development in your condition is so new and so frightening. Though you must say you cannot help but feel sorry for the soul the gods have promised you too. While what you felt was agony, you have no idea how much it must’ve hurt for your soulmate at that moment.

Over the next few days, you were closely monitored by the maester, the septa’s and your parents who all were anxious to see if the flower on your eye would slowly go down like the other flowers did when the pain disappeared or if it would remain. And much to yours and everyone around you's annoyance, it very much stayed bright and clear on your skin no matter what ointment or potion was used to clear it.

On the fourth day after the incident, as your father called it, a maid who was one of the few with knowledge of your condition came into your chambers with your morning meal, and some important news.

“My lady,” she began, practically sweating as she placed the tray in front of you. “There has been a recent development in regard to your soulmate's identity.”

Since the pain you felt was the most extreme you had ever felt, your father had felt the need to hire some men to investigate to see if this new information would reveal your soulmate's identity, even though the chance of finding an answer was slim to none. Though you suppose there was never a zero percent chance, as proven by the fact there was according to the maid, a recent development.

“What is it?” You ask, biting into the lemon cake first and savoring the sweet yet sour taste on your tongue. “What has my father discovered that he does not feel the need to come tell me himself?”

“Well…” She stumbles, even stepping back a small step as she instinctively looks to the ground. “It turns out that the same day you had that incident my lady, the prince Aemond Targaryen had his eye taken by his young nephew Lucerys, and it was reported to your father that the damage was so bad the eye had to be removed and the socket sewn up.”

The cake that once laid in your hand falls back onto the plate. Your mouth like the cake falls open in the same undignified manner as you cannot believe the words you are hearing.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen?” You find yourself asking in a breathless tone, silent as the maid nods her head.

“May I be dismissed now, my lady?” She asks, knocking you out of a daze you hadn’t even realized you had fallen into. You nod in answer and watch as she leaves, leaving you in silence and your own thoughts that begin to run rampant.

You were soulmates with the Prince! A Targaryen Prince! You heard that out of his three siblings he was the only one with no dragon, but you honestly did not care if he did or did not as either way he was still a man of honor. When thinking of the injuries you received over the years, you cannot help but think of how it made sense.

You knew princes received special training similarly to that of young knights, so when the maester said that the injuries matched up with them made sense. Yet to hear of the Prince's injury that perfectly synced with your own, that was what finally made it all make sense.

You lay backwards in your bed, and allowed the anxiety to wash over your body. The food lay to waste against the covers as you thought only of what your future could hold as a wife of royalty. Of how you would never be a true lady of the court and in the end would no doubt bring about disgrace to your husband's name. Of how in the end compared to your soulmate, the Targaryen warrior, you are just a woman from a lower house who could not bring anything into the marriage but your empty womb.

The next few years after the realization of your soulmate, you spent your time attempting to convince your father not to pursue a marriage between yourself and the Prince. But to your surprise and happiness, your father agreed to not pursue anything marriage related to you without so much of a fuss, even when you, your father and even your mother knew how much a marriage between you and the Prince would help your house bloom in both social standing and resources.

You felt selfish in your insistence of your future, but your father was adamant in telling you that he was not angry in your decision and if anything he was proud to see you so passionate about your decisions.

Your mother much to your delight seemed to agree with you, which probably the main if not the only reason was why your father acted so calmly. According to her you were too young for marriage, which to most people seeing as your mother and father were married quite young it may be seen as hypocritical. But those people were not there to witness all the times your mother gripped her stomach and dreamed of the brothers and sisters you lost on the birthing bed and before.

You were sure not to injure yourself too greatly in fear of that, like how you found out Prince Aemond, he would discover your true identity and come to your doors to claim you in the same way his elder brother Prince Aegon supposedly claimed the ladies of the red keep. 

Yet like all those years ago the night when you realized your eye hard turned blue. The gods were not on your side.

You scream as the pain quickly makes itself known in your arm forcing you to forget anything you’ve ever known other than that overwhelming seering sensation. The tears mask your ability to see the blood pooling up from your skin, and you can hear muffled running in the distance as well as the sound of panicked shouting from the familiar voices of the septas you made such close acquaintances with all those years ago.

You can feel their hands grabbing you, but nothing beats the pain that you cannot even begin to put into words. The maester is by your side as soon as you’re brought to the healing room, and his old wrinkled touch is distinct on your skin as he tries to find the blue flowers he has become so familiar with. Only he does not find blue. Only red. Which is the color of your blood that dyes his fingernails and the tips of his cloak crimson.

Like all those years ago, milk of the poppy is brought to your lips and you are forced to swallow hard and quick. The familiar daze returns as you quickly become numb to the feeling of the sharp needle piercing your skin as the maester attempts to fix you.

You stayed in that bed for at least a day or two before you came too again, but at this point you are used to being there within those familiar walls.

According to the maester, at the height at which you fell from the tree you were climbing in, the tree you were in fact always forbidden to climb but ignored thinking you were safe, you broke your arm clean in two. Apparently the bone had managed to pierce your skin, which is why there had been so much blood. So in order to allow it to heal properly he formed a special layer of hardened protection to stop the arm from any unnecessary movements that could cause further damage to the arm.

As he tells you this, you cannot help but think of how the Prince is thinking right now. Did he get that same piercing pain in his arm too? Did the flowers bloom the same way yours did whenever he managed to harm himself? Were his flowers even the same color as your own? You felt so deep in thought you barely even heard your mother come in to visit.

“My love?” She says, taking your hand in hers and drawing you out from your thoughts. “How are you faring?”

“I am alright mother. The pain is gone, all thanks to the maester.” You say, simply reassuring her as she looks at you carefully to assess whether you lie or not. Yet as she does this you cannot help but notice a distinct figure missing right now. “Where is father?” You cannot help but ask, curious in his whereabouts.

“He went to Kingslanding my love. Do you not remember?” She asks, lips pursed in a sad smile. “You were all set to go with him this morning but since your fall, he was forced to go alone. He sends his best though and wishes that you find a fast recovery, which is seems you have managed to accomplish my strong girl.”

“Oh yes…” You say, remembering she was in fact right. “I suppose I forgot. I did hit my head when I fell.” As soon as you say the words you instantly wince with regret. As before you can even try and defend yourself your mother calls the maester back in and demands a series of further assessments to be done. You sigh as you fall back and your head hits the pillow. This is going to be a long day.

Your father, as he traveled along the road into kingslanding, felt guilt gnawing at his chest for leaving you behind whilst you laid in that healing bed. When he left, you had been in a deep sleep so he had been unable to say goodbye. So he kissed your forehead and squeezed the hand on your unbroken arm and left you to sleep. The guilt remains, but he knows that whilst you lay in that bed you are surrounded and are safer in the presence of your mother and the maester and septas, who overtime have managed to gain much more insight than the majority of people into the topic of soulmates.

As they are so rare, they are viewed as freaks, even though he personally believes that they should be celebrated for being looked upon so greatly by the gods that they have been given a person cut from the same cloth.

When he looks at his own wife, who has given him such light from the darkness of his own life, he likes to think she is his soulmate with or without the flowers blooming on her skin. To him, she is just as beautiful as a fresh bloomed flower after all.

When he exits his carriage down the steps, the queen awaits him with only two of her children standing beside her, and he notices immediately that it is Aemond who is currently absent.

“Will the Prince Aemond not be joining us?” He finds himself asking, eyes widening slightly as he remembers that he is in the presence of royalty. Not some fellow lord whose son is out sleeping away his hangover after fucking a dozen whores.

“No, I'm afraid not Lord Fletcher. My son awoke this morn with a dreadful headache as the maester and he has told me, so he will be staying in his chambers for the duration of the meeting. Probably even for long after you’ve left I’m afraid.” The queen Alicent says, a smile on her face that he immediately knows is forced and strained. After all, he has had to make similar lies when people at the gatherings expect to see you and don’t.

“Ahh, I understand my queen. My own daughter has the same issue with her own health. Some days she wakes as healthy as can be then the next she’s laying in her bed writhing from the worst of pains.” He says, not entirely lying as he remembers those exact moments happening to you as you grew up.

“Ah yes well still we thank you for your understanding.” She smiles again, motioning for him to come and follow her into the castle. “Shall we get down to business?”

The next few hours are spent with him, the queen, and a few other notable house lords debating in the council room. At times the table becomes heated as words are thrown without proper caution, but the Queen always lets a small yet loud cough to remind the men of their place. So to his amusement whenever this happens, the men immediately even when their voices before could shake a mountain, quieten down like freshly stuck dogs denied a newly cut piece of prime steak.

Just as though another annoyingly arrogant man from House Lannister demands to know why his house is in need of paying more of its gold to a lord from House Tarly, the doors burst open, and the second born son of the king walks through as though he was born to strut. As the prince he sits down in the end chair of the council table with all eyes on him, Lord Fletcher cannot help but think about how as soon as he gets home he cannot wait to tell you of how this was the first time he met your soulmate.

“Are you feeling alright my Prince?” He finds himself asking, raising a brow as he turns to the Queen, whose own face holds embarrassment and shock to see her son sitting there before her. “The Queen had told me when I arrived that you were not going to attend today's meeting due to a headache?”

The Prince looks at his mother with what could only be called disdain, and it appears to make her slouch back into her seat while she takes her hand in her own and begins to pick at the nail. It honestly reminds him of how you bite your lips half bloody in your own strange anxiety relieving way.

“I am afraid my mother is mistaken my Lord Fletcher,” The prince simply says. “I merely overdid myself when training with the sword yesterday. I was waiting for the maester to visit so he could give me something to relieve the pain. I do apologize for my tardiness.”

“Oh there is no issue at all my prince.” Lord Fletcher says, an attempt of a smile on his lips. Though he soon becomes distracted when he sees Aemonds eye wander around all those in the room, as if to take some sort of strange attendance record.

“Is your daughter not with you today?” Aemond finally speaks, meeting his eye with Lord Fletcher's own two while he stares him down. “I went to visit my sister before this meeting thinking she would be there so I could greet her and welcome her to kingslanding. But my sister tells me she has never met your daughter. Why is that?”

The Queen Alicent perks from her seat as she remembers now finally remembers the information that had been picking at her all day. “Oh yes my lord pray tell, where is she? I had been so looking forward to introducing her to my only daughter. I had thought the two would get along quite well.”

Lord Fletcher attempts to laugh to ease the sudden tension in the room, but it appears to if anything makes it worse as no faces change from their stoney exterior.

“I’m afraid the day before our departure, my dear daughter had an accident that quite badly injured her arm, the same arm in fact you say to have harmed during your training my prince!” Again he laughs, but that does not stop him from seeing the look the prince and queen share with each other.

It appears the prince is more aware than he thought with the motion of soulmates, though it does make sense when thinking of all the things he’d heard of the one-eyed prince. He is a scholarly boy, so it’d make sense for him to research and look in depth into all the possible books about soulmates the royal library or even the citadel have to offer. He even has the Grand Maester at his beck and call, who no doubt has more information on the topic than anyone else.

“Tell me my lord, how did your daughter have such an accident?” The prince asks as he leans forward so far in anticipation he looks to be at the edge of his seat. “It must’ve been from quite a great height for her to have received such injuries. I do hope she has a quick recovery.”

“Thank you my prince, it means a lot to hear from you. As for how she fell, I believe she was climbing in a tree somewhere on our land when she fell and broke a bone in her arm, the end of which pierced her skin just between her elbow and arm socket, or so our maester told me before I left. I worry about her recovery yes, but I know she is in the hands of a capable maester so I do not doubt she will be feeling much better soon.”

The Prince appears to squint slightly at Lord Fletcher before looking back to his mother. It almost looks like there is a silent conversation between the two, and it’s only interrupted by small tilts of heads by the both of them. It was strange yet interesting to watch.

The Prince hums his final response to the once silent conversation before looking back at Lord Fletcher. “Well as she was unable to make the journey with you to Kingslanding, I suppose I shall have to make the journey to your own home and in a way being Kingslanding to her.”

The silence rings throughout the council room again, with even the queen looking at her son in shock. The councilmen who’d been long forgotten don’t dare attempt to speak a single word since the prince's declaration, which only further proves Lord Fletcher's idea that they’re all idiots in their own rights.

“Are you sure my Prince?” He asks, “Tis I’m sure a tedious journey for you and your dragon-“

“Tis no issue!” Aemond interrupts sharply, his tone firm and assertive. “You are set to travel back home the next morn by carriage I hear. So I shall travel by Vhagar tonight so I may spend the night and meet your daughter in the morn. Is that sufficient enough for you my lord?”

The Prince does not leave room for an answer, as before Lord Fletcher can even open his mouth the Prince already has left the room leaving all councilman members and his mother in shock at the turn of events. And while he feels that same shock, he also cannot help but feel fearful as he knows it’s with his words alone what drove the Prince to commit such quick actions.

He can only dread to think about how the introduction between you and the prince will turn out.

When you awoke the morning after your father had left for Kingslanding, the thing that struck most odd with you were the maids. They looked more fearful than you had ever seen them, and they even avoided eye contact with you, which was odd as by now they had all gotten used to your eye.

“What is the matter with all of you?” You spit, glaring at all the ladies who even after you confronting them refuse to look you in the eyes.

They stay silent as they continue to stare at the stone floor, until finally one of the more recent of the lot breaks the silence.

“The Prince is here, my lady.”

Any anger you felt before this moment disappears soon as it brews and instead is replaced by only stone cold fear.

“He cannot see me…” You murmur, seeing the ladies agree and nod out the corner of your eye. “The Prince cannot see me!”

“He specifically spoke of you when he arrived, my lady,” The maid continues, slowly looking up to stare pitifully at your practically trembling form. You can feel yourself begin to chew at the skin of your inner lip, and yet if anything it encourages you to continue when you start to taste the familiar tang of copper smear on your tongue. “Claims that whenever you wake he wishes for you to join him to break fast together as soon as possible.”

The more this lady speaks the more your gut turns and twists within your body. By now the taste of copper gushes down your throat yet you welcome it gladly, even refusing the goblet one of the other more meeker maids offered you to wash the taste away when they saw red begin to stain your outer lip.

“I have to hide it.” You find yourself firmly saying as you look at one of the older ladies. “Tell me, do we keep any veils that are out of use?”

When the prince awoke within the unfamiliar comfort of the bed with a tired groan building within the back of his throat, it is the memory of the council meeting from the day before that floods his mind, forcing the once tired and sore body into being now quick and alert with excitement and anxiety.

When Aemond was but a young boy, he remembers during one of his lessons on the reign of Maegor feeling a sharp stinging in his knuckles. When he looked down, much to his shock and horror, he saw that light blue flowers were blooming across the pale skin. As much as the initial sight had shocked him dreadfully at first, Aemond could not help but think of that day during later years fondly. As that was the day he realized that maybe after the gods had given him, he was not truly alone.

The Grand Maester had told him everything he himself knew about the topic, and even sent a raven to the citadel to request books speaking of the tales written in the texts. According to him, Aemond was the first in a long time to come forward about possessing one.

Aemond prayed to the gods to meet them soon, but no matter how much he got on his knees no matter how many times he held his hands together in the grand sept with his mother next to him, no girl ever came forward to claim him.

And by the next year, Aemond felt more alone than ever before.

His flowers were never to be allowed to be seen in the eyes of anyone other than his family, a select few maids and the grand maester of course. This was because according to his grandsire, fathers from all across the realm would put their daughters forward claiming to be his soulmate. Also, if it was discovered he had a soulmate, those same fathers may not deem him suitable for marriage if he will abandon his wife for another woman. It was better to hide, so a marriage could be insured and an heir to his name.

Though any thought of a good tempered wife or even a marriage that could soon turn to affection was gone the moment Lucerys stole his eye. He does not remember much other than the pain, but what comes to mind is the thought in the back of his head hoping his soulmate would be alright. Praying that she would not hate him and would still love him even after now being turned into a cripple.

That day he may have lost an eye, but he gained a dragon. He gained the strength to protect his soulmate, and that to him was all that mattered, other than the protection of his mother. Somehow at that moment as she stood there before him, she looked more vulnerable than he did.

While Aemond lay in his bed healing, his mind turned to his soulmate as he remembered the reasoning behind the flowers. The flowers bloom where pain on the other person blooms, in an assurance that they are not alone in this world. Aemond could not help but think it all as a cruel sort of joke, especially as the pain in his eye begins to slowly throb. Yet a part of him is still thrilled to know that even though the Gods have cruelly broken him and built him back up again, there is a person given to him who will share his pain and see him for what he is.

He became even more desperate to discover you as soon as he was fully healed. He called the Grand Maester as soon as he spotted the familiar blue coloring on his skin, and together they looked over each inch of petal extensively until they day turned to night and the oil in the lamps burned out.

According to him, they were marks like that of a piece of wood struck on the knuckles. Which makes sense as Aemond remembers all the times Aegon would fall asleep soon as lessons started, and halfway through a particularly menacing Maester would strike him with a sort of smooth wooden object directly on the knuckles to wake him. It would be a sight that made Aemond smugly smile while he completed all the necessary work and chuckle at later, but thinking of that same treatment happening to his lady made his heart clench in his chest.

Nowadays, whenever he found himself getting injured, whether that is simply a bruise from training with Ser Cole or a sudden onslaught of inner pain in his eye socket, in his mind he always found himself apologizing at the back of his mind for causing pain for his lady. He finds himself wishing he was better in lessons so he could have avoided the swords, wishing he had fought better in the caves against his nephews and cousins so he wasn’t missing his eye. Whatever the situation, Aemond always craved that he was better. And found at the center of it all it was all for her.

He remembers his three and ten name day much too clearly. It lingers in the back of his mind like a plague. The salty stench of the air. The taste of the cheap alcohol Aegon had forced him to consume as according to him, the act was better when a person is left in a daze. The feeling of that woman’s too warm skin. The sound of her supposedly seductive voice that instead of arousing him only managed to make him further horrified. All of it stayed with him for years sticking to his skin.

Though the part which struck out most for him were the thoughts he could not help but think as that woman sunk down on him and robbed him of any free will. The realization that he would not be able to stay chaste for his soulmate. The idea that maybe she would not want to be with him once she found that her soulmate had laid with filthy whores paid by the go to fuck all sorts of men.

He ran out of that place as soon as the weight on his limp body was lifted, and as soon as he reached the comforts of his own bed with the covers lifted well over him like a cocoon, he cried. He cried for the loss of his body. He cried for the loss of his ability to think without remembering what that woman was doing to him while dribbles of tears streaked down his cheek. He cried for not being faithful to you.

He cried for his future with a soulmate who hated him for actions beyond his own control.

Though as Aemond dressed in appropriate clothes he brought with him for the special moment, his mind cannot help but think back to his earlier worries. Yet now, he is a man.

Aemond possesses the largest dragon in the world. Which to him even now was worthy of the trade of his eye. He is a scholar of history and philosophy whose work has even been submitted to the citadel to be placed in books that’ll be read by many accomplished people. He is even a greatly talented swordsman as said so by all those who have watched him train in the yard. He has become a man worthy of your love and your future.

Yet his hands still fumble about with the other whilst he follows a plain looking maid to the dining hall. He requested a meeting with you in private specifically in a place you were familiar with so you could be comfortable when meeting him. He may be a dragon, but he likes to imagine that he is no monster.

He sits there for what feels like hours. Picking at the skin above his nail until he can feel the blood pooling. He’s about to do it again to his final nail on his left hand, but then you walk in and everything stops. Only not for the reason he would’ve hoped it to have.

As he does not meet the eyes of his soulmate. Instead he meets nothing. He merely stares blankly at the veil that covers your whole face.

“What are you wearing?” He asks, glaring at the damned piece of fabric in his way.

“Clothes, my Prince.” You simply say, the sarcasm not annoying him like how Aegons does. Though Aegon was always just a twat. You appear to make it interesting and actually entertaining to take part in.

“Trust me, my lady, I can see just fine with one eye.” He smirks, silently seething at the prospect of being unable to see your face. He already knows you to be beautiful, it just irks him that he is unable to confirm it. “Why do you hide yourself?”

“What do you mean my Prince?”

“Why do you hide your face? Is there a chance you are afraid of me? Or of what you think I will see?” As soon as the words leave his lips he sees the way your body freezes up. “Do you wish to sit down my dear lady? I am sure it was never a part of your etiquette lessons to break fast while standing.”

You do not say anything as you move to sit in a seat near the middle of the table, and Aemond already in his mind is thinking that’s much too far away from him as he continues to sit at the end seat.

The two of you though stay silent as you both begin to eat the spread of food in front. From the corner of his eye he watches you, and it’s strange how he finds himself suddenly so jealous of the fruit you begin to eat. Jealous of the way those grapes get to go under your ridiculous veil and be touched by your lips, which Aemond already knows to be soft and oh so kissable. He has never seen them, but he just knows.

“Would you not be more comfortable without the veil my lady?” Aemond asks, watching carefully as you stop eating and turn your head to look at him.

“No, I am fine with my current predicament. Is it not more comfortable for you to not wear the eyepatch?” You quip back, with no doubt a smile on your face.

“I suppose you are right my lady,” Aemond drawls, watching the way your head tilts and the fabric concealing you from him lightly pressed against the curves of your face. “How about I propose this. I take off my patch, and you take off your veil?”

“I do not accept it!” You practically yell, your hands clenching so hard that Aemond could see even from where he sat the knuckles turning white.

“Besides…” You continue in a much softer tone like that of a burdened lady, which Aemond knows for sure is not true at all from what he has heard of your life story. “I am hideous to look at. This veil more protects you than it protects me my Prince I am sure of it.”

Aemond hums a response, but his eye says all as it trails over your covered body.

“So those who have told me in person how you are easily one of the prettiest maidens they have seen are lying then, are they my lady?” He reveals, watching you carefully so he can attempt to decipher your movements.

“They must be my Prince. As far as I have been told, I am the ugliest lady they have ever seen and how I shall die a spinster locked away in a tower!”

It’s strange, how when Aemond thinks of that actually happening his fists clenched tightly by his sides, and how he gets the overwhelming urge to maim those people claiming you to be so hideous. To make them so ugly and deformed and force them to sit all day everyday in front of a mirror so they can see the true meaning of being grotesque.

“You lie.” Aemond simply growls, his brow harshly furrowed from the mixture of anger from the idea of those insulting you and frustration from you still hiding your true identity from him.

He closes his eye and takes a minute to simply breathe past his anger. His body slowly tingly as he swears he feels your eyes piercing his soul.

“What if I strike a bargain with you, my sweet maiden?” Aemond says, the nickname oozing off his tongue with arrogance and self assurance.

“And why should I even think about striking a deal with you, my Prince?”

“Because I believe it shall benefit the both of us my lady. Now, do you wish to hear what I have in mind?”

“If you insist on telling me then I suppose I shall be obliged to hear words from the Prince of the realm.” You sigh, leaning your body to one side so your head is laying on the palm of your hand and Aemond gets another glimpse at how you look without truly seeing you.

“I suppose you are…” He says, leaning forward so his arms are fully lying on the table and his spine is slightly curved. “Still, the bargain I wish for you to partake in is this. I shall take off my eye patch so you can see what true grotesque is, and you my sweet maiden shall take off your good for nothing veil. Then I suppose we can see out of the two of us who is the most ugly, as you so bluntly put it.”

Aemond barely has a chance to blink before you're yelling a distinctive and firm “No” that manages to echo somehow in the room.

“Now now my sweet don’t be so resistant…” Aemond grins, tilting his head to one side as he finds himself delighted with how riled he’s made you. “You did not even consider it for a second.”

“Because I did not need to!” You bite back, slamming your hands against the wooden table so hard it manages to shake your plate still possessing some food and even your goblet too. “If I do not wish to show you you have no right to force me!”

“Oh, but I’m afraid I do my sweet maiden…” He says, getting up from his chair so he can oh so slowly make his way over to where you appear to sit frozen in your own chair. “As a prince, I have power where you do not. Now, I do not wish to abuse such power for situations like this one. I do not like to abuse my power in general in any situation. But I may find myself very willing to show you what it is I am capable of. Do you understand me maiden?”

Aemond pauses for a moment as he watches the way the veil moves with every shallow breath you take before he does something that leaves his own heart beating frantically in his chest from every emotion possible to feel.

Aemond slowly peels off his eyepatch to reveal to you a shining blue sapphire surrounded by deep scarred flesh before chucking the piece of dark brown leather onto the table in front of you.

“I have completed my end of our bargain my sweet lady. Now complete yours, before I get impatient.”

You sigh deeply and Aemond cannot help but feel his heartbeat thrice as hard in his chest from anticipation alone. He yearns to see your eyes, your lips, your nose, your everything If only you should allow him too.

So when your hands slowly move to entangle themselves in where the veil begins from within your hair, his heart feels as though he fully stops when the veil is slowly pulled away and the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life stares back at him.

“Gevie” He cannot help but murmur as his eye moves over your whole face and his body is forced to sit down in the chair next to you so he can focus on looking solely at you.

“What does it mean?” You ask, though Aemond barely registers it as he’s entranced with how your lips move with each syllable.

“Beautiful.”

There is a rare silence between the two as they each take time now looking at each other. You stare at the sapphire that glints when the sunlight beaming through the window hits it. While Aemond now looks properly at your eye, which he has discovered is a whole different color than the other. And when you blink and reveal the delicate flower imprinted on your eyelid, he cannot help but gape and gasp slightly.

“Did I do that?” He asks, pure horror in his tone and words.

“It was done a long time ago my Prince,” You simply say, smiling slightly in a strange way to comfort him. “And in a way, I suppose it was done by whoever took out your own eye. I do not expect you to suddenly reveal to me that you tore it out yourself. So therefore, you should have no more guilt than the person truly responsible.”

“I’ll kill the bastard!” Aemond growls, anger spilling from him in waves as he thinks of his nephew whose crime has gone on for too long.

“Careful my Prince. Those are dangerous words you are saying about children of the crown. You are lucky it is only me who is here.” You smile.

At first, you were so defensive and so sure the veil would hinder the Prince from prying about what was underneath it. You had thought of him like how you thought of all other men, and that when challenged with the prospect of an ugly woman he would not care and move on. Yet you suppose the gods do like to play tricks in the unlikeliest of places.

He had worn you down with the harshest of phrases and the most defensive body language, yet when you saw him at his most vulnerable with his sapphire shown bare to you you could not help but allow the overwhelming feeling of awe take over you while you stared at him.

As you unmasked yourself before him however and saw his own look of awe while he stared at all your features that had once been so carefully hidden from him, you could not deny the way your heart beat loud in your chest.

Even the way he murmured in his unique Valyrian tongue made you feel a strange feeling of specialness. As if no other woman had been seduced by those same words.

As you spoke to each other, your tongue slowly loosed as it felt for some reason so right to do so. You joking with the Prince felt so natural and yet so foreign at the same time.

“I suppose I am lucky my lady that it is you who sits there.” He says in response to your dangerous quip about his nephews, whose mother if she had heard yours or Prince Aemonds words would’ve surely sharply questioned you for them with no thought of mercy. “Though I suppose I am even more lucky that it is no ordinary woman who sits before me.”

He waits for a moment to see if you will guess his next words. But to be honest he almost forgets them himself as he gets distracted staring at your bottom lip which you bite between your teeth.

“I am lucky as it is my soulmate who sits before me as beautiful as the maiden herself.”

You feel like all the air in your lungs has left and you're gasping for air. Yet it's not as painful as you thought. In fact, it's rather remarkable to feel yourself burn in the presence of a dragon.

Still, even with this miraculous feeling within you, you cannot help but think of how your soulmate treated you but moments before. Arrogant. Selfish. Coercive. Your soulmate forced you to show yourself to him when you were uncomfortable. Did you really want to be fated to be with that person for the rest of your life?

"What's wrong my love?" Aemond asks, seeing the anxious expression on your face.

"How is it you can be so kind to me, when not even what I can guess to be less than half of an hour ago you were treating me as if I were some sort of shit on your shoe?" You ask, looking him dead in the eye as his body appears to freeze up before you.

If you weren't so focused on forcing the truth from a prince of the realm, you would think that it was actually very thrilling and sort of empowering to force a prince into silence.

"I did not mean to treat you like that." He begins, his head tilted to the floor so you cannot see his eyes and his neatly kept hair falls forward like a sort of curtain either side of his face. "I am sorry I was harsh on you. I suppose... I suppose I was scared."

Oh?

"All of my life, since I was a child, I was praying for you. For my soulmate to come into my life. And I suppose after all that time passing without you turned me bitter and angry that the gods did not hear my pleas. My feelings only became more sour when finally in front of you, instead of immediately accepting me and welcoming me you denounced me and spurned me with your words."

"You really thought I would jump into your arms like some sort of innocent lovesick maiden?" You say, staring at the man in front of you in disbelief. Aemond for the first time since his confession looks up at you from his curtain of silver locks, disbelief in his own stare as he listens to your honest words.

"Aemond, the idea of being tied to someone for the rest of my life was challenging for me as a child. Before the loss of your eye, all I had felt was mere stings. Yet feeling the pain I felt that day, it frightened me. I was a child-"

"I WAS A CHILD TOO!" Aemond yells, standing up so suddenly and leaning over you that you shriek a little in fear. “I was the one experiencing it first hand! The one who had to be held down by maesters and stared at by all as milk of the poppy was forced down my throat so maesters could tear out my eye with no true concern for me! YOU DID NOT HAVE TO GO THROUGH THAT AS YOU LAID ABED WHINING LIKE SPOILT CHILD!”

“DO NOT YELL AT ME!” You find the courage to say, standing up and pushing him away so he stumbles a couple steps back in surprise. “I get that you are angry and believe the entire world hates you! But do not blame me because you cannot be angry at those truly deserving of it! Do not yell at me because you are forbidden from getting your revenge on your bastard nephew! Do you understand me?!”

Aemond, in the same manner as that of a kicked dog, nods a yes to your question. Though when you glare hard at him to tell him that answer is unacceptable he quickly fumbles for words that eventually make it out to be heard.

“Thank you.” You simply say, stepping forward to show him how he has earned that step. “I understand you were disappointed I was not there for you. But you need to understand I was scared about it all. Scared of my future, scared of what was to come. Do you even get how scared that must’ve been for me?”

“Yes I understand that.” Aemond says, stepping a single step closer and pausing to see if you allow it which you do. “I am sorry for not thinking of you when you yourself were obviously hurting yourself. I was selfish-“

“It is not selfish, Aemond, to act like how you did.” As you speak, you step that last final step towards your soulmate and place an admittedly cautious hand onto his cheek. Though you think what surprises you most is when he immediately closes his eye and pushes his cheek hard against your palm. “I forgive you Aemond, even when I don’t know if I ever should for how you treated me.”

“I do not truly expect you to.” Aemond murmurs, his eye still closed as he savors your warmth against his cheek. “Though I vow here before you as not just your soulmate but as a man, that I’ll make it my life’s mission to form myself as a man worthy for you. To form myself into what you deserve.”

“Though I suppose that’s the strangest thing about our whole meeting.” You whisper, placing your other hand on the part of Aemonds face where the dark brutal mark that is his scar takes most of its space. It forces a somehow now calm and content Aemond to all of a sudden open his eye and even gasp so silently you almost barely hear it when your thumb slowly traces the raised yet soft skin of the scar that has defined him for so long.

“I don’t find myself wishing you to change to be better. I find myself wishing for you to stay how you are, even if you may hurt me.”

And with that, without either of you knowing whose fault it truly is, your limbs find comfort with each other, and all feels right.

[honestlyreadingruinedmylife]

That’s amazing. Of course everyone needs to start somewhere. Of course I understand not everyone likes writing smut.

Young Charles Xavier x reader. She’s also has a mutation. She’s kicked out by her parents when they find out that her boyfriend is in a wheelchair. She turns up in the pouring rain with her puppy under her jacket to keep them dry and a black eye because her dad hit her (you don’t have to write that just imply it)

Hope that’s not to detailed but wanted to give you as much detail as I could to help you write it.

Can you please tag me in any future X-Men fanfiction you write.

Xx

A.N: Okay, I finally got around to finishing this. I'm actually quite proud of it given it's my first time EVER writing fanfiction and especially with it being a request. I hope you enjoy it even though it is a bit cliche at times. Also, there is slight ableism given the prompt, I did some research to make sure I wasn't using any slurs but if I am wrong PLEASE let me know. I will change it.

Word Count: 1251

Pairing: Young Charles Xavier x Female!Reader

Warnings: Ableism (Only a small sentence), gets kind angsty

You didn’t really know how they had found out. You were so careful. Building a wall of lies so thick and so far that you could no longer see the ends. 

You suppose that somewhere along the lines you’d missed a spot, one vital brick that tumbled down the entirety of your life. 

Your parents had only just started getting around to the idea of having a ‘freak’ of a daughter. Constantly telling you how lucky you were to at least look ‘normal’ and not like those ‘other ones’. 

You were one of the good ones. 

They had laid the rules out simply. They didn’t care about your abilities as long as they stayed outside the house and as long as you married a ‘regular human being’. It seemed simple enough and studying for a masters (which they paid for) you figured one more year of hiding wouldn’t be so difficult.

What you never considered was falling madly in love with another mutant. You’d been convinced for so long that you were completely alone in the walls you’d built, that when you met a man who could literally tear them apart you had no choice but to let yourself go.

The argument had started at dinner. It’d been a long day of research which had resulted in nothing but a dead end. Exhausted from sitting reading at a desk all day, you just wanted to get through the traditional family dinner and get straight into bed.

You were sitting in your usual chair, facing your mother while your father sat at the head of the table. It’d been eerily silent from the moment you’d sat down but didn’t mind given your exhaustion.

Suddenly, your father put down his utensils, “I’ve set up a dinner, next week with the neighbors boy,”

Thinking you hadn’t heard correctly, you turn to face him, “pardon?”

“It’s about time that you start thinking of settling down,” your father continues, “most normal girls your age are on their way to having their first child,”

You hear the implication in his voice even if he hadn’t outright said it. Irritated, you push your plate away.

“I am a normal girl, dad,” 

You hear your mother sigh, but you can’t seem to look away from your fathers face that twitches in irritation.

“You know what I meant,” he says your name as if it's a burden. He says it as if you were a curse on his normalcy.

You roll your eyes, “yes I know exactly what you meant, father, and I’m not going to be dressed up like some doll to be paraded for the neighbors boy,”

Another twitch, you know you are pushing him too far, but you can’t seem to care anymore.

“He is of good breeding and a wealthy background,” he picks up his utensils again, “the dinner will be on Monday,”

“Breeding?! I’m not cattle, father,” 

Your fathers face contorts into a scowl and you know he’s losing patience with you, “He will assure you are the last of your kind in my bloodline,”

You can feel your whole body shaking, “I will not go to that dinner, father,”

You hear your mother whisper your name, you suddenly realize that the shaking wasn’t just within your body but the whole house. With your emotions rampant you couldn’t control your powers as naturally as you normally could.

Breathing in and breathing out, you calm yourself enough to stop the shaking. Your father, however, is maroon with malice. You have pushed him too far.

“I will not let my grandchildren be the offspring of a freak and a paralytic!”

You feel your heart stop. Your mind is racing, unstoppable thoughts wreak havoc in your head. He knew. He knew and now your life is over.

“Father-”

“You thought I wouldn’t find out?” Your father continues to yell, “you thought I’d let you disobey me without consequence?”

You could feel your breathing increase as you enter a panic. Everything is muffled, your father continues yelling but you can’t hear a thing he is saying. You have to get away. You have to get to Charles. 

Without realizing, you stand, turning to leave the table, trying to find an escape. With one step, your father is in front of you, rough hands clamping down on your shoulders, forcing you still.

“Let me go,” you whisper, looking down away from your father. 

“I forbid you from seeing that man again!” 

“Let me go,” you feel the ground tremble beneath you.

“He’s one of you isn’t he?” Your fathers grip tightens on your shoulders, “he’s a freak!”

“Let me go!” You shout back in his face. You don’t initially feel the strike, but you can feel the heat begin to blossom around your eye. And you feel the ground erupt into endless shudders as you watch your father lose his balance and fall to the floor.

With the last of your strength, you run towards your room grabbing your research and your puppy that likes to sleep under your bed. As you race to the front door, you glance at your mother fussing over your father, who is still laid on the floor.

Stopping you turn to face your parents, “I am not a freak. Just because I am different doesn’t mean I’m lesser than,”

You turn to open the front door and with foot out your childhood home, you turn one last time, “I’ll never treat my children the way you’ve treated me, mutant or not,”

With those final words, you run into the rain, hailing the first taxi you see.

It wasn’t until you were at Charles’ front door, drenched and with your puppy under your coat, that you realized how bleak your situation truly was. 

No home, no parents, no education. 

With nothing left to lose, you knock as loudly as you can, hoping anyone would hear you over the pounding rain.

Almost immediately, the door swings open. 

Hank at first looks at you with confusion and then concern. He drags you inside and in the same breath yells for Charles.

The second you see Charles look of concern as he approaches you, you feel the tears start to form in your eyes. Finally able to let go, you feel yourself crumble with the weight of the night.

In no time, Charles holds you in his arms, stroking your soaked hair, whispering into your ear, “it’s okay darling you’re safe now, you’re safe here,”

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him holding your own weight again. His hands don’t leave your face, careful with your already bruising eye.

He whispers your name. He whispers it like prayer, like there’s no one else in the world except you and him. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, “How about we run you a warm bath?”

With no strength left to speak and knowing you didn’t need to, you nod into his hands, closing your eyes and soaking in the comforting warmth he exudes. From within your jacket, you feel your puppy shuffle, stuck in between your torso and Charles’ legs. Pulling away slightly, your puppy leaps away from you and begins sniffing around Charles’ wheelchair.

“I see you’ve brought a friend, darling,” he chuckles, as he watches your puppy continuing to adventure.

You hiccup trying to find the words, “I couldn’t leave him in that house,”

Charles looks back at you, his blue eyes wide with adoration, “he has a home here, he’ll always a home here,”