#its implied they're both just stupid

[sarcastic-sketches]

Suddenly bowled over by the image of Anakin with a baby Ahsoka strapped to his front during the middle of work. Ok I guess??

Ahsoka getting cursed into a toddler during the Clone Wars and Anakin is now suddenly responsible for a literal baby. He is now acutely aware of the fact that the 501st are in an active engagement and his protective instincts are dialed right up to max. They have to be pulled back from the front, a young padawan was pushing it as it was but this is a Babby.

He's having to think about what baby togruta eat. Ahsoka can't feed herself or defend herself or anything except wiggle around like a striped potato. Her montrols are non existant, just little nubs, and its almost bringing this Jedi Knight to tears with how cute she is. He knows she's a carnivore but surely they don't eat meat that early?? Do they need anything else to develop correctly?? Is he going to accidentally harm her somehow through neglect?!

Anakin: Master Ti, what do baby togruta eat??

Shaak: Pardon?

Anakin: Help.

She gets the explanation from Anakin in pieces and a better explanation from Kix. She can tell him how to look after her until they can reach Coruscant, milk if they have any on board will do fine in the interim and Ahsoka will like being bundled up. The pressure of being cocooned is soothing (thinking of Momma Tano strapping babby Ahsoka to her front but now it's Anakin making sure she goes with him everywhere) and will prevent her from becoming too agitated.

She keeps chewing on his leather glove when he holds her but he doesn't mind, and just lets her gnaw on his knuckles like a chew toy. Its not his flesh hand anyway so it's fine. He can’t effectively secure her to him on his own so he has to get Rex to help him do it properly with Shaak still on speeddial for instructions.

She can’t help but notice how oddly domestic the scene looks as Rex carefully wraps Ahsoka in her papoose cocoon to Anakin's chest. They're both cooing at her. Shaak cannot wait for a Council meeting to be called about this.

The clones are caught between being distraught at what's happened to their Commander, as well as thinking she's the cutest thing they've ever seen. Since Anakin is now focusing harder on keeping Ahsoka safe since she can't protect herself anymore, Rex has taken it upon himself to stick at their side even more than usual. Just a very protective satellite orbiting around both Jedi in case they need anything.

No, the other men are not jealous that Anakin automatically hands Ahsoka off to his Captain if he needs to be free if her for a minute or two.

Back on Coruscant he knows she's better off being handled by the creche but ... that's his Padawan, just small. Everyone on the Council had hoped he'd deal with a Padawan just fine but were admittedly a little surprised by just how well he took to it. Seeing him immediately throw himself into taking care of baby Ahsoka, and all her species specific needs, has a lot of them second guessing their assumptions of him.

It's Obi-Wan who eventually asks where his almost instinctual knowledge comes from. The answer is that Shmi Skywalker was the go to mum for any new mothers on Tatooine and there were quite a few in the slave quarters during Anakin’s time there. He learned by just being there to help out.

Obi-Wan: if you want to continue to care for Ahsoka, you could do so by just working in the Creche and helping there with the rest of the infants

Anakin: !!

[coulsonlives]

#not to be that guy #but I read the post as poorly worded but well intentioned #men can still struggle with internalised misogyny and working through that #think a lot of people on this post just jumps right to the 'oh so you're misogynistic?!?? a thousand deaths for all men' #can you guys at least have a little bit nuanced thinking than only barking that men are evil?? for once? #men can struggle with unlearning something they've been thought their entire life gdi #idk #just kinda think the agreessive barking is a bit...excessive

Fucking thank you for saying this

a contender for dumbest post I’ve seen on here… literally ‘let men hate women’

[specialagentartemis]

I get variations on this comment on my post about history misinformation all the time: "why does it matter?" Why does it matter that people believe falsehoods about history? Why does it matter if people spread history misinformation? Why does it matter if people on tumblr believe that those bronze dodecahedra were used for knitting, or that Persephone had a daughter named Mespyrian? It's not the kind of misinformation that actually hurts people, like anti-vaxx propaganda or climate change denial. It doesn't hurt anyone to believe something false about the past.

Which, one, thanks for letting me know on my post that you think my job doesn't matter and what I do is pointless, if it doesn't really matter if we know the truth or make up lies about history because lies don't hurt anyone. But two, there are lots of reasons that it matters.

It encourages us to distrust historians when they talk about other aspects of history. You might think it's harmless to believe that Pharaoh Hatshepsut was trans. It's less harmless when you're espousing that the Holocaust wasn't really about Jews because the Nazis "came for trans people first." You might think it's harmless to believe that the French royalty of Versailles pooped and urinated on the floor of the palace all the time, because they were asshole rich people anyway, who cares, we hate the rich here; it's rather less harmless when you decide that the USSR was the communist ideal and Good, Actually, and that reports of its genocidal oppression are actually lies.

It encourages anti-intellectualism in other areas of scholarship. Deciding based on your own gut that the experts don't know what they're talking about and are either too stupid to realize the truth, or maliciously hiding the truth, is how you get to anti-vaxxers and climate change denial. It is also how you come to discount housing-first solutions for homelessness or the idea that long-term sustained weight loss is both biologically unlikely and health-wise unnecessary for the majority of fat people - because they conflict with what you feel should be true. Believing what you want to be true about history, because you want to believe it, and discounting fact-based corrections because you don't want them to be true, can then bleed over into how you approach other sociological and scientific topics.

How we think about history informs how we think about the present. A lot of people want certain things to be true - this famous person from history was gay or trans, this sexist story was actually feminist in its origin - because we want proof that gay people, trans people, and women deserve to be respected, and this gives evidence to prove we once were and deserve to be. But let me tell you a different story: on Thanksgiving of 2016, I was at a family friend's house and listening to their drunk conservative relative rant, and he told me, confidently, that the Roman Empire fell because they instituted universal healthcare, which was proof that Obama was destroying America. Of course that's nonsense. But projecting what we think is true about the world back onto history, and then using that as recursive proof that that is how the world is... is shoddy scholarship, and gets used for topics you don't agree with just as much as the ones you do. We should not be encouraging this, because our politics should be informed by the truth and material reality, not how we wish the past proved us right.

It frequently reinforces "Good vs. Bad" dichotomies that are at best unhelpful and at worst victim-blaming. A very common thread of historical misinformation on tumblr is about the innocence or benevolence of oppressed groups, slandered by oppressors who were far worse. This very frequently has truth to it - but makes the lies hard to separate out. It often simplifies the narrative, and implies that the reason that colonialism and oppression were bad was because the victims were Good and didn't deserve it... not because colonialism and oppression are bad. You see this sometimes with radical feminist mother goddess Neolithic feminist utopia stuff, but you also see it a lot regarding Native American and African history. I have seen people earnestly argue that Aztecs did not practice human sacrifice, that that was a lie made up by the Spanish to slander them. That is not true. Human sacrifice was part of Aztec, Maya, and many Central American war/religious practices. They are significantly more complex than often presented, and came from a captive-based system of warfare that significantly reduced the number of people who got killed in war compared to European styles of war that primarily killed people on the battlefield rather than taking them captive for sacrifice... but the human sacrifice was real and did happen. This can often come off with the implications of a 'noble savage' or an 'innocent victim' that implies that the bad things the Spanish conquistadors did were bad because the victims were innocent or good. This is a very easy trap to fall into; if the victims were good, they didn't deserve it. Right? This logic is dangerous when you are presented with a person or group who did something bad... you're caught in a bind. Did they deserve their injustice or oppression because they did something bad? This kind of logic drives a lot of transphobia, homophobia, racism, and defenses of Kyle Rittenhouse today. The answer to a colonialist logic of "The Aztecs deserved to be conquered because they did human sacrifice and that's bad" is not "The Aztecs didn't do human sacrifice actually, that's just Spanish propaganda" (which is a lie) it should be "We Americans do human sacrifice all the god damn time with our forever wars in the Middle East, we just don't call it that. We use bullets and bombs rather than obsidian knives but we kill way, way more people in the name of our country. What does that make us? Maybe genocide is not okay regardless of if you think the people are weird and scary." It becomes hard to square your ethics of the Innocent Victim and Lying Perpetrator when you see real, complicated, individual-level and group-level interactions, where no group is made up of members who are all completely pure and good, and they don't deserve to be oppressed anyway.

It makes you an unwitting tool of the oppressor. The favorite, favorite allegation transphobes level at trans people, and conservatives at queer people, is that we're lying to push the Gay Agenda. We're liars or deluded fools. If you say something about queer or trans history that's easy to debunk as false, you have permanently hurt your credibility - and the cause of queer history. It makes you easy to write off as a liar or a deluded fool who needs misinformation to make your case. If you say Louisa May Alcott was trans, that's easy to counter with "there is literally no evidence of that, and lots of evidence that she was fine being a woman," and instantly tanks your credibility going forward, so when you then say James Barry was trans and push back against a novel or biopic that treats James Barry as a woman, you get "you don't know what you're talking about, didn't you say Louisa May Alcott was trans too?" TERFs love to call trans people liars - do not hand them ammunition, not even a single bullet. Make sure you can back up what you say with facts and evidence. This is true of homophobes, of racists, of sexists. Be confident of your facts, and have facts to give to the hopeful and questioning learners who you are relating this story to, or the bigots who you are telling off, because misinformation can only hurt you and your cause.

It makes the queer, female, POC, or other marginalized listeners hurt, sad, and betrayed when something they thought was a reflection of their own experiences turns out not to be real. This is a good response to a performance art piece purporting to tell a real story of gay WWI soldiers, until the author revealed it as fiction. Why would you want to set yourself up for disappointment like that? Why would you want to risk inflicting that disappointment and betrayal on anyone else?

It makes it harder to learn the actual truth.

Historical misinformation has consequences, and those consequences are best avoided - by checking your facts, citing your sources, and taking the time and effort to make sure you are actually telling the truth.

[renthony]

On "Consuming Content"

Every now and then a post crosses my feed that follows the vein of, "you have to do things other than consume media or else you'll be a dumb person who doesn't know anything about how the real world works and does nothing but pointless fandom stuff."

I hate those posts for three major reasons, not counting the inherent ableism and classism of "you must have approved Smart People hobbies or else you're worthless" rhetoric:

You don't know what people do or talk about outside of what you see on their social media. Responding to fandom communities on a fandom-driven website as if all these people are one-note cardboard cutouts of people is asinine. In many cases this genre of post feels like repackaged 2012 tumblr "not like other girls" and hipster discourse. Yes, yes, you think you're better than everyone else on this website because your hobbies are less mainstream, more morally pure, and have greater intellectual merit, we get it.

What do you even mean by consuming content? As someone who purposely avoids using the phrase "consuming content" because I find the term too vague to be useful, please be more specific. Are you including every single form of media engagement and art enjoyment? Are you just talking about mainstream TV and film? What about novels? Plays and scripts? Nonfiction books and instruction manuals? Do you mean to imply that going to a book club is a worthless non-hobby? Are you including academic reading? Are you including going to the art museum? Going to the theatre, concerts, or other performances? Taped liveshows? Watching sports events on TV? Are you including news media? Are you including YouTube tutorials about how to do various tasks, crafts, or other hobbies? Are you including trade magazines? Are you including industry publications in various fields? What constitutes "content," and what constitutes "consuming" in this discourse? Define it. "Consuming content" is a nothing phrase that people use to mean multiple different things depending on what they, personally, judge as valid media. It's a buzzword at best, and when the same buzzword can be used to describe both "idly scrolling social media" and "reading and discussing a book," it's a meaningless phrase.

As an artist and author, if engaging with media is bad and worthless, am I supposed to conclude that making it is equally worthless? If "consuming content" is a bad, lazy, worthless, fake hobby, what makes creating art a worthwhile pursuit? If I am constantly being told as an artist that engaging with media isn't a worthwhile pursuit in its own right, and the people who want to engage with my art are just brainless fandom losers, what incentive do I have to make that art anymore? Furthermore, to everyone reading this paragraph and thinking, "that's not what content creation is," I refer you to bullet #2: If the phrase "make content" can be used to mean "low-effort posts made to advertise cheap and useless products" as well as "being a novelist" or "getting a gig as a writer on a TV show," it's a meaningless phrase.

None of that is even getting into issues such as the way influencers are preyed on by both brands and targeted harassment from trolls. Influencer culture has major issues, but boiling those issues down to "stupid vapid young people who are too lazy to make real art or get real jobs" (which is a mindset I see frequently online) is unhelpful. So many people pursue influencer deals because they're living in poverty but are skilled at various social media and advertising related tasks, and just like any worker, they're being exploited because they need to eat. Labor rights for influencers are a huge topic that entertainment industry unions have been actively discussing and working toward. (Related links for further info: [x] [x] [x] [x])

"Consuming content is not a hobby" is a worthless statement unless you define what you mean by both "consuming" and "content." Quite frankly, you also need to define "hobby," because if you're putting requirements on what is and isn't allowed to be a "real" hobby, you mostly just seem like you're moving goalposts and defining "worthwhile hobby" as "hobby I, personally, think is good." Use more specific language to articulate your actual problems with the entertainment industry, the art world, influencer culture, or whatever else you're actually upset by.

Media and fandom can involve any number of enriching, satisfying hobbies that take up a perfectly acceptable and healthy space in someone's life. If you aren't into it, go find hobbies you do like and stop policing how other people spend their precious free time in this nightmare hellscape of a world.

[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.

[thestrongestjewel]

The Clip post (the crink fanchild)

OK SOO if u follow me on instagram u probably know of this stupid creature I created:

this is clip! and as the little ref you're seeing there implies yes this is in fact a crink fankid because im cringe like that-

so, you might be wondering why did I create the creature? well thats a good question, it ties up with a comic I already posted here actually (this one) . In the universe in which Clip is born cross moves in with Ink in the doodlesphere after the events of underverse and they (mostly by accident) created clip

after a while the rate at which creators made aus started to slow down, putting ink in an artblock that let him pretty sad :( cross only wanted to help, and so he decided he wanted to help ink by creating something of their own! which ended up in- well- them co-parenting a child together lol

they have no idea of what they're doing but they're happy regardless, mind you they're not even dating by this point they just happen to live together and have a child- no romantic feelings whatsoever I promise guys I promise-

anyway, some facts about clip! (most of these are taken from a Q&A I did about him on instagram):

He's 7 years old in universe, just a small baby! pretty smart and self aware for his age though. he's also pretty small and likes climbing on things like a little bug

like ink, he can eat paint, his favorite flavour is lavender! cross tries to keep him in a somewhat normal diet, but its hard because clip does not like to eat actual food, he really likes chocolate mint icecream though.

his favorite parent is ink, he thinks cross is "too lame" and "booring" while ink is more fun and teaches him how to paint.

of course that's just him being a kid, he loves both of his parents very much! he's very confused about their relationship though

(it is in fact very embarrassing clip)

and that's pretty much all I have about them for now- I dont plan on doing any big comics/stories involving them, its not really my main interest I just really liked the concept

If u wanna make fanart of clip or include him in a comic feel free to :D

anyway back to taking a break from drawing I go woaooh

[scoobydoodean]

would love to hear more about the “chuck was the one who brainwashed cas and kelly actually” theory, thank you :)

Okay so I'm going to sound like I'm not addressing your question at all at first but just bear with me.

One of the primary reasons that the baby brainwashing incident fascinates me is that Cas's actions are a betrayal of his and Dean's bond on a foundational level. I'm not talking about The Colt or the mixtape (though they're related).

Dean and Cas's relationship as handler and charge was shed and a real, genuine bond bloomed in 4.22, after this exchange:

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam. DEAN You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. 

These are the words that convince Cas to rebel. These are the words that dissolve Cas's doubts in doubt, and convince him to follow his convictions instead of act on blind faith. Shortly after this conversation, Cas flies Dean to Chuck, who tells them what they're up to isn't supposed to happen. This becomes a theme of Dean and Cas's relationship.

Together, Dean and Cas do things that aren't supposed to happen—that aren't part of God's plan. They do something Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 4.18. They do something that Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 4.22. They do something that Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 5.22.

Dean and Cas's relationship, at its very core, is built upon the rejection of two things: 1) Destiny and 2) Paradise—and by the end of "The Future", Cas explicitly (in the production draft) embraces destiny and paradise... and that screams Chuck.

This is what Cas says to Kelly right after the devil baby brainwashing at the very end of "The Future". The "Paradise" part doesn't make it to the final cut—just the "future" part... but the Paradise part is implied by the "future" part anyway.

What else happens in "The Future"? Kelly says the line.

It's not supposed to happen this way.

She says the line that Chuck said every time Dean and Cas defied the writing during the first apocalypse by doing something Chuck couldn't or didn't anticipate. Kelly says this after Sam and Dean catch up to Castiel—after Sam and Dean convince Cas to just talk through all of this with them and not jump to the nuclear option of murdering Kelly—to consider an alternative plan where Kelly and Jack's lives are both preserved because Jack is born a regular baby. The moment Cas begins to agree to talk, Kelly says "It's not supposed to happen this way."

Now let's talk about Kelly. Her behavior this entire episode is insane. She begins the episode despairing because giving birth to Jack will kill her. She then tries to kill herself, but Jack won't let her die—and this throws Kelly into a sort of religious fervor—convincing her that Jack is actually good and could revolutionize the world. Her belief in this is so powerful that when Sam and Dean arrive, she immediately rejects the plan they've come up with that will spare her and Jack's lives:

Sam: No, Kelly, if you go with Cass, you die. Your baby dies. Kelly: I go with you, you take away the thing that makes him special.

She sounds nuts. Like. Imagine saying you'd rather you and your baby DIE than have a "normal" baby. Your baby HAS to be a special baby or you'd rather be dead? Uh... ew—and to a point that screams supernatural brainwashing.

Of course—Kelly's actions aren't quite as irrational as they seem because right before Sam and Dean arrived, Kelly was shown something by "Jack". She got Cas to lay his palm on her belly, and "Jack" showed her a vision of the future. After she takes off with Cas in the impala, she says,

When you put your hand on my stomach, I heard him. He spoke to me. He told me that even if it seems scary, if I just went to the gate, if I just followed your plan, that you would make sure he was born.

So even as she's driving herself straight into Cas's plan to kill her and her baby, Kelly believes everything will be fine—because "Jack" showed her the future... and the thing is? She's... not wrong. "Jack" did show her the future. "Jack" showed her a tiny moment that actually does happen at the end of the episode—Cas standing between her and Dagon and saying "You stay away from her".

Why do I keep putting "Jack" in quotes here? Because Jack never displays the ability to see the future after his birth, and yet "Jack" did have this power from the womb... only? Yeah... I'm not so sure. I'm wondering if it was someone else—someone who showed Kelly what they had already written.

I'll also note in 13.01, that Jack doesn't seem to remember... any of this happening—at least not in the same way. In fact, he recalls very little leading up to his birth. The way he describes it, his sole knowledge of the world prior to his birth came from Kelly speaking to him while he was in the womb... but also... not? Because he says he was Kelly?

SAM: How do you speak English? JACK: My mother taught me. SAM: So you talked to her. JACK: I was her. JACK: My mother, she said Castiel, he would keep me safe. She said the world was a dangerous place. That's -- that's why I couldn't be a baby or a child. I... That's why I had to grow up fast. That's why I chose him to be my father. Where is he?

It's all pretty confusing, but something blinks at me here: Jack says Kelly told him Castiel would keep him safe and indicates that he chose Castiel as his father based on Kelly's assessment. However, Kelly told us Jack showed her the future which told her that Castiel would keep Jack safe back in 12.19. These are two contradictory stories. What if a third party sowed both?

Two other little bits:

First:

Kelly: Maybe – maybe everything that I've been through, everything that I still have to go through, is happening for a reason. Maybe it's part of some plan. Castiel: No, it isn't. I used to believe in a plan. I used to believe that I had some mission. But I have been through enough now to know that everyone is just winging it. 

Castiel does a 180 on this by the end of the episode and it screams Chuck Chuck Chuck Chuck.

Second:

If you go to the 12.19 production draft (graciously provided to the fandom through @/spnscripthunt) on page 45, you'll see something that never made it to screen—Cas's vision of paradise.

Only—these visions don't seem to come to fruition unlike Kelly's vision of Cas protecting her. The bits with Dean and Castiel's wings don't feel like the future anyway—they... just feel like what Cas wants most desperately at that time—to be a protector and provider who can handle everything on his own—who needs a "win". This is another theme of the episode. Cas stole The Colt in a misguided attempt to protect his family from having to be directly involved in the ruthless murder Cas had determined would be necessary. He didn't believe there was any other choice, and he wanted to spare Sam and Dean the pain of being involved in the dirty work.

Sam: Then – Then why didn't you call us? Cas, we could've helped you. Castiel: I know. I wanted to keep you out of this. I-I was trying to keep you safe. Dean: You're not our babysitter, Cas, okay? That is not your job. And when in our whole lives have we ever been safe?

This probably stings for Cas because he knows they aren't, and he wants them to be—he wants his family to be safe... all without having to discard his conscience by killing Kelly. He wants her to be safe too! The stuff he sees gives him what he wants--Sam and Dean and Kelly happy and safe—Dean thanking him—Cas once more a fully powered angel who doesn't need anybody's help.

But all of this stuff he sees? It's a lie. It's a lie because it never happens, but it's also a lie because destiny is always a lie. Paradise is always a lie. God's plan is just a way to keep them all in line... and Cas is trying to secure paradise for someone who said they'd take the pain and the guilt over someone else's vision of their paradise.

[dunmeshistash]

Any thoughts on Mickbell and/or Kuro? They're honestly some of my faves and it's hard to find stuff on them T_T

Many thoughts!

They both have had rough backgrounds and suffered a lot so they have this co-depedant relationship that while they pretend like its "Boss and Bodyguard" they cleary care deeply about it each other.

I love how responsible and down to earth Kuro is compared to how we see him in the series. As someone whose first language isn't english I can relate to sounding way less smart when speaking in your second language lmao. Now I'm much better but when I just started I sounded really silly, and even today some people have the "are you stupid" reaction when I don't know a word that should be obvious or misspell things, I understand you Kuro 😔

Honestly a nice reminder that language proficiency is not an indicator for intelligence, wish it was more obvious in the anime/story itself since every time Kuro speaks to Kabru in Kobold is in an extra.

Oh yeah also fun fact Milsiril was the one to teach Kabru how to speak Kobold. Its implied in an extra. While they come from the same continent I doubt Kabru would know kobold just for that.

About Mickbell its very interesting how he's the complete opposite of chilchuck, he LOVES being treated as a kid and doesn't seem to have much of a pride

It's hard to remember how old he is because he's so childish, it's a great choice for a half-foot after we had only met Chilchuck if you ask me. Cause even adults in real life can be childish sometimes, the fact he also LOOKS like a child to us makes it even harder to see him as the adult he is, you can't keep getting away with things by being cute Mickbell <3 (he can).

Also his dream is to buy a house for him and Kuro, I don't think there's any doubt their relationship is based in mutual affection, even if Mickbell pretends he's Kuro's boss (and that he should be more respectfull), they're both the only one the other has when it comes to family.My thoughts

[anonymouscheeses]

Im sorry i have to say it..: Get Your Hands Dirty sounds like a love song.

HEAR. ME. OUTT!! (No i dont mean a love song between Chloe n Ella omg 😭)

What I'm implying here is that it sounds like one of those niche high school love stories when one of the lovers(most likely a goodie two-shoes) goes to their mentor/parent/even the person their loving/etc to ask for advice on relationships. Or more specifically, if this person is worth it or even a good person. From the top of my head: I Won't Say (I'm In Love) and the goodie and the wildchild dynamic is pretty similar to Gabriella and Troy from hs musical, which iws(iil) kinda inspired this post tbh but also ive been thinking about this ever since i first watched the movie. (You plop in ur own songs, i js KNOW this trope exists)

Now that we've established the well used niche trope existing in this niche song made by the niche king that is Disney.... why do i think that Get Your Hands Dirty is a love song, i hear?

Lets analyze THE LYRIICS 😈😈

"Right and wrong, cruel and kind, who's to say?" "There's a code that I believe in."

"Robin Hood" "yeah?" "Awesome guy" "yeah!"

"Every choice, you're gonna find there's shades of grey." "There are rules for a reason!"

"So you could then cross that line, theoretically."

"You'd agree?" "But he stole for the poor."

"The decision's always up to you. When there's only one thing left to do"

"I don't know you anymore.."

Okay, so i shortened and made it tiny for obvious reasons, that bein its too long 😭 so! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS A FEEELIN?? a feelin that this is SCREAMING denial?! Its giving...

Chloe: Ellaaaa.... this girl im talkn to is SOOO HHHOOOOTT and PRETTY and cool and stuff but ugh.... SHE EEEVILLL!!

Ella: oh my gosh.. STFU. Shes prolly not even that evil ill prove it smh..

*get ur hands dirty starts playing. No exaggeration. No cap.*

"Okay, but there's some universal truths you must recognize." "Like?"

"Valiant knights, pure and good, guaranteed" "That depends on what they're fighting for"

"Creepy witches selling potions for evil deeds" "She could have kids she's providing for"

"If your good-good things will come to you"

MORE denial, Chloe wants to be friends with Red SO bad she looks stupid, but she brings herself back by trying to prove to herself that she's evil and they SHOULDN'T be that close. Which also is a big sign of comphet and heteronormativity, i would know 🧍 (which is a post for another day i might make. Prolly 2 prove that Chloe is a lesbian in deep comphet)

"But just how far do you go? How much do you compromise? Oh, tell me, how do you know. Where do you draw the line?"

"There's nothing I wouldn't do. If my heart tells me it's right. If it's for someone I love. If it's to save a life."

"To save your life."

Further deepening the trope i mentioned. The first line could be interpreted as a double meaning since the song is kind of mostly about Chloe coming to terms with the fact Red isn't really evil or as bad as she thought, plus the argument of where the line between evil and good is. It could refer to Red or Ella, maybe both, but Ella changes the meaning with her own experiences so it drifts off the focus from Red because we cant have ANYTHING 🤧 but i still believe Chloe intended it to be for Red since the entire song is really just for the progress of their relationship n stuff.

Now this could definitely all be in my head, yes, Disney would most likely NEVER canonize or even imply heavily a queer relationship or anything lgbtq on a pre established franchise (cowards.). But there is always a chance.... deep inside the dark heart of the mouse..

Plus, with the subtle hints here and there of Red and Chloe's relationship growing, romantically or not, they are still super close and love eachother alot. Chloe is js (kinda) canonically a girl kisser who cant help but find a girl kissable (same)

And don't get me started on this movie and its obsession with love and proving how it is not "ain't it". Hello...? They set the tone of love, but i see NO person close enough to Red established for this message (other than Chloe) and if they introduce some random guy in the next movies, NO ONE would care nor would they want it unless somehow its 100x better than redcharming, but thats impossible cz wlw 4 life.

So, this entire thingy is me basically finding scraps and wanting to provr that charminghearts IS canon and WILL be established soon! (Im delulu)

[txttletale]

https://twitter.com/ZakugaMignon/status/1739703106466627976?t=6BRheBvMK4MlCt5gXaj4ig&s=19

this is a comically misleading graph lol (copy-pasted it below)

like you look at this and obviously think 'wow training an AI model is so much more carbon-intensive than planes or cars' -- but if you look at the actual units being chosen, they're fucking stupid. like, why is the air travel one the only one measured per passenger? the AI model will presumably be used by more than one person. fuck, even the average car will often be transporting more than one person! why is the car the only one that has its lifetime use and manufacturing cost combined when the AI model only has its manufacturing cost and the plane only has the cost of a single flight divided per passenger?

these are absolutely fucking nonsensical things to compare, and obviously chosen in ways that make AI look disproportionately bad (and air travel look disproportionately good, for some reason?). i'm not even touching the profoundly Fucked political implications of measuring the CEO emissions of 'a human life'

but let's, just for funsies, assume that these are reasonable points of comparison -- in 2021, 9 million cars were made in the USA. for the environmental impact of training AI to be even equal to the effects that those cars will have over their lifetimes (which this graph obviously seeks to imply), there would have to be over a million AI models trained in that time. which--hey, hang on a minute, that reminds me, what the fuck is 'training an AI model'! AI models come in all kinds of sizes -- i don't think the machine learning model that the spiderverse animators used to put the outlines on miles' face cost as much to train as, say, DALL-E 3! there is no indicator that this is an 'average' AI model, or whether this is on the low or high end of the scale.

so having just had that above question, i went to look at the original study and lol, lmao even:

the 626,000 lbs figure is actually just the cost of that one specific model, and of course the most expensive in the study. there's no convincing evidence that this is a reasonable benchmark for most AI training -- for all this study's extremely limited set of examples tells us, this could be an enormous outlier in either direction!

so yeah, this is officially Bad Data Visualization, & if you originally saw this and thought "oh, it looks like AI art really has a huge environmental impact!" then, like, you're not stupid -- the person making this chart obviously wanted you to think that -- but i recommend taking some time when you look at a chart like this to ask questions like 'how was this data obtained?' and 'are these things it makes sense to compare on the same scale?', because there's a lot of misleading charts out there, both purposefully and through sheer incompetence.

[clemissleepy]

Autumn Sadness

seungmin's rival for the title of 'jeongin's best friend' collapses in his doorway.

wc : 1.7k

tw // implied sh , implied ed , fluff , angst , seungmin and reader are both very sensory-sensitive , seungmin is kinda rude at first , enemies to lovers but it doesn't actually go anywhere, this is just a lil drabble

seungmin hated that stupid face that was always glowing on jeongin's phone when he thought he wasn't looking. it enraged him to hear her obnoxious laugh through the walls and the way jeongin nearly completely ignored seungmin's existence.

when she came around to their shared apartment, it was like seungmin was a blanket. just used to everyone's benefit while he laid there and gained nothing. he didn't get to pick the show they watched, or the food they ordered, or what games they played. he just had to sit there and watch his best friend treat her like a princess.

the leaves were warm oranges and yellows. the sky was nearly gray and dead, wind chilly enough to dust pink on ones cheeks and nose, but not enough to numb their joints. seungmin had his headphones in, reading on his balcony bundled up in blankets and sweaters. he hummed to himself as he flipped through the familiar pages of his favorite book.

out of the corner of his eye, he could see something rushing. he could faintly hear the leaves crushing beneath someone's panicked steps and the creaking of the apartment's lobby door being opened. he caught a glimpse of the striped scarf the person worse and was now annoyingly aware of her presence.

just minutes later, he could hear keys shuffling around in the halls and the locks of his door clicking. the metal door slowly slammed shut and he rolled his eyes while closing his book to investigate. he unwrapped himself, throwing his blanket and story onto his plush comforter, and trotted out to the living space.

there she was, panting, in complete disarray. her scarf was tangled in her unusually disheveled hair. her eyes were uncomfortably pink and the way she darted around looking for something was getting on seungmin's nerves.

"jeongin's not here," he glares, hoping she'll take his hint to leave. but she just stares at him, eyes glossy as fat tears roll down her cheeks. a sob racks her body and she collapses onto her knees in the foyer.

"oh... um... okay," seungmin mutters while she wraps her arms around her and shivers. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

she does not reply. rather, she curls over herself and chokes on her spit, groaning out and watching her tears puddle on the chill tile beneath her. her hands shake and run through her hair, tugging at it by the roots.

"okay, enough of that," seungmin comments, standing just in front of her and pulling her hands away from herself. 'they're soft,' he thinks. he notices how the white nail polish she always had on was chipped away, her usually clean and well kept nails were bitten far too short and the skin was picked at and fresh.

"what's wrong with you?" he continues to pry, looking down at her judgmentally. her head stays low as she pants and mumbles, rocking back and forth just enough for seungmin to notice. he supposes he needs to try a new approach.

he slowly kneels down, groaning at the ache in his back as he does. he reaches eye level with her and is very slow and gentle as he lifts her chin up to look at him. his eyes soften at the way her eyes just slightly turn inwards, making her look like a lost puppy. however, there is an obvious lack of color in her appearance, more like a homeless abandoned dog than one simply away from its home.

"i know i'm no jeongin and i know we're not friends by any means, but..." seungmin rests his hand onto her shoulder and slowly starts to untangle her from her scarf and jackets. "i'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to."

she chokes out her sickening laugh. "you just asked what the fuck is wrong with me!" she giggles while the tears drench her chin and neck. seungmin rests her scarf and jacket on the floor, now taking a close look at the way she's cradled into herself.

there was gauze wrapped tightly around her arms, suffocating her hands and turning them purple.

"you're cutting off blood," he states while starting to unwrap the bandages. he does not fail to notice the blood seeping through them, but he does not care. he is gentle and reassuring as he rewraps the gauze. "did you make a tourniquet anywhere else?"

she stares blankly for a moment, dissociating in front of the man she claimed did not have a soul. she catches his eyes and is lost in the way they are not as dead as she always perceived. they are small, half closed, but they are alive.

she points at her leg. beneath her jeans there is a lump where the gauze is and she hisses at the tension in her muscles.

"take your pants off."

"what?!" she yells, immediately regretting it from the scratch of her throat.

"well, unless you're gonna fix it yourself," seungmin rolls his eyes and stands up, offering one of his hands to her. she scrutinizes every inch of his face in an attempt to read his expressions just as she does jeongin. but she cannot see what lies behind his eyes or his foul mouth. she can only see the faint light of hope in the pit of darkness she's found herself in.

she adjusts the gauze on her thigh in the bathroom and seungmin insists she changes into some of jeongin's comfy clothes. specifically, his dinosaur pajamas. she is buried in the soft material, but comfortable nonetheless as seungmin leads her to the familiar couch and rests his own weighted blanket on top of her.

"beef or chicken?" he asks while tucking the edges of the blankets into her sides and ensuring she is mostly confined into a small roll of blankets and sadness.

"beef... for what?"

"ramen. you lost weight," he pads away into the kitchen and starts to boil water up in a pot. "i'm guessing you've been bottling everything up because jeongin has been having the time of his life with his girlfriend, yes?"

seungmin noticed the lack of his rival's voice through the walls the past few weeks. he was now hearing a much more trained voice coming from his speakers. it almost irked seungmin how jeongin seemed to shuffle away into a new world without his two best friends.

"how-,"

"i know everything. i know your coworkers have been talking shit about you behind your back and blaming you for things you didn't do. you're on your last warning before you get fired. i know your sister just started her tour in america so you're alone at home. i know your cat was diagnosed with cancer and you had to put her down last week. on top of that, you have exams next week, you can't get a hang of your calculus, and you're worried you'll never succeed, find love, or even make it out of college alive."

seungmin does not notice that he rambles. he knows there's an obvious annoyance in his tone, but he choosss not to acknowledge how odd it is that he knows so much about her.

the water is boiling, but the room is quiet. seungmin knows she can hear the buzzing of the lights, and the fridge, and the stove. so, out of the kindness of his heart, he turns the lights off and grabs an old pair of fluffy earmuffs from the foyer that he stuffs onto her head. 'her hair is so soft,' he thinks.

"well, you know my whole life story... you'd already know everything even if i wanted to tell you what's wrong," she grumbles.

"you talk pretty loud," seungmin shrugs and pours the noodles into the boiling water. "but i don't know why today was your breaking point. jeongin's at a photoshoot, not like it's a date that he abandoned you for."

"someone leaked my face and information. they got pictures of jeongin and i at a cafe and now... he's under fire for dating rumors and my sister is getting hate because of me and i'm so- they know where i live! i had to come here, i have to apologize to jeongin and ask if i can hide here."

"of course you can hide here, dumbass," seungmin chuckles. "and you should be more worried about your safety than jeongin or your sister's public appearance. they leaked your address?"

she nods silently and more tears stream down her cheeks. he finishes the ramen, letting it simmer in the pot with the seasoning. he then finds himself tensely beside her, hands anxious and trained to his sides while she starts to bresthe heavily again.

"you like pressure, right? lay down," seungmin commands, pushing her and watching her fall clumsily onto her side from being rolled inside blankets. she gasps and her eyes bug out, but she watches how seungmin crawls on top of her like a dog that doesn't know his own size and rests his dead weight onto her. she feels like she's floating on a cloud while simultaneously being grounded by the most wonderful weight imaginable.

it does not take either of them long to fall into an autumn nap, snores and drool falling from both their lips. seungmin shuffles in his sleep while she mumbles and hiccups quietly. the rain outside patters against the window rhythmically and their legs intertwine slowly as they adjust for comfort.

jeongin enters the apartment with grocery bags and his keys twirling on his finger. "seung-," he nearly yells, but he sees his roommates feet dangling off the arm of their couch. he notices the discarded jackets and scarf and feminine boots in the entryway, and deduces that his other best friend is here.

he does not, however, expect to see the both of them in a little cuddle pile. the ramen is still full on the stove at a simmer, the lights dim and the tv stuck on the netflix 'who's watching?' screen.

jeongin kneels down and whispers into seungmin's ear, "i knew you liked her."

"shut up, sushi roll needs peace and quiet," the older whines with a lisp and drag to his words. his hand lifts to the her cheeks and cups them oh so gently.

"she's sad... 'm gonna make her happy again."

thank you for reading! <3 ~clem

[sporesgalaxy]

PLS.. share thoughts on zoro n sanji relationship........ i dont ship them but they are so. SOOOOO.

THEY MAKE ME CRAZZYYYYY. and honestly the way their dynamic make me insane doesnt even HAVE to be read as romantic. But i feel so much crazier when i see them shipped and its not even capitalizing on all the shit theyve got going on.

So anyways here's my Zoro and Sanji retrospective I spent several hours on I guess. As if it's my fault.

▪︎

When Zoro and Sanji meet, Sanji has given up on his dream to see the All-Blue in favor of supporting Zeff.

Zoro is still throwing himself at his dream to be the greatest swordsman with all his might, and nearly dies to Mihawk for it.

Initially, from Sanji's outside perspective, it seems like a waste of precious life.

Zoro promising never to disappoint Luffy when he's on death's door clearly makes Sanji reconsider, though.

•••

The next time Sanji and Zoro really interact after Zoro's defeat is when they go after Nami at Arlong Park.

And the first thing Sanji learns about Zoro is.......that he's willing to hit girls!

To Sanji, Zoro seems like he's willing to turn on someone-- and worse, willing to hurt a girl-- just because he's angry for an apparent betrayal that no one has any concrete proof of yet. What a jerk! Surely that earned him the dig Sanji makes about his loss to Mihawk.

Unbeknownst to Sanji, however, Zoro has already bet his life on Nami's friendship being genuine by almost drowning himself.

Zoro doesn't want to bother explaining this to some stupid new guy who's willing to side with a stranger purely on the basis of her gender. Clearly, Sanji doesn't understand ANYTHING about this crew, and should just stay out of things.

And so their initial mutual dislike is born!!!

They tend to bicker a lot after this, but I think the next time Sanji brings up Mihawk is in Alabasta.

Once again, Sanji is hitting below the belt because he's convinced Zoro's done something nigh-unforgivable: doubting Luffy. It's a reminder that their rivalry at this point is still built on genuinely misjudging each others' character.

Now at this point I've run out of my 100 daily shounen jump chapters so I can't find for you the PRECISE moment thet are mutually like "yeah ok fine you're a DECENT guy I GUESS" in Alabasta but I think it's the clock tower maybe? The point is that the whole crew has to work together VERY HARD to defeat Crocodile and it shows Sanji and Zoro that they can count on each other to support the crew, at least.

Their improved relationship is apparent in one of my fave downtime scenes so far: Sky Island jungle dinner :)

I...don't think we've seen Sanji ask for help cooking before this point?? Much less from Zoro. So I fucking love that. And Zoro goes along with it, even though he complains!!!!! It shows perfectly how they now trust each other to help take care of the crew.

Another one if my fave examples of them counting on each other in a kind of funny way is when they're fighting Zombie Oars.

Zoro pushes Sanji's buttons on purpose to get him to go along with it, and it works. But it also shows that Zoro was counting on him to give him a boost! The middle panel could even imply Zoro jumped before Sanji agreed to anything, which really proves how much they're willing to couny on each other now.

Which of course brings us to the conclusion of Thriller Bark and a WILD curveball in their relationship: thes self-sacrificial x2 combo.

What Sanji does here floored me. At this point not only does he trust Zoro as a part of the crew, but he considers Zoro a more irreplacable member of the crew than himself.

And Zoro refuses to let him.

Now, we know from his initial fight with Mihawk that Zoro being willing to kill himself doesn't mean he considers his life unimportant. Zoro and Luffy are both unafraid of death, because they have to be willing to die to even have a ghost of a chance of achieving their dreams.

That's why Zoro chooses to take on Luffy's pain and why he is able to survive it.

Zoro's sacrifice obviously means a lot to Sanji. When Zoro refuses to acknowledge his sacrifice, Sanji goes along with that and covers for him.

And of course he understands. The pain Sanji mentions here that Zoro is trying to spare Luffy from is the exact same pain that lead Sanji to give up on his dream of finding the All-Blue in favor of trying to repay his life debt to Zeff. Sanji wouldn't wish the guilt he feels for Zeff's leg on anybody.

Sanji shows a lot of concern for Zoro after this point up until the time skip!! He calls Zoro a hero to Brook, and tries to help Zoro deal with his excess injuries without drawing attention to them. Zoro is of course surly about it, because he's frustrated by his own limits. He got a taste of what Luffy goes through and it just made him more desperate to become strong enough to lighten Luffy's load.

I find their sort-of reset after the timeskip hilarious.

Sanji was already feeling deeply insecure when he got sent to the island of question your gender and sexuality-- things Sanji clearly considers very important to his identity. Since he can't bear to question himself, he relies on reacting combatively to things that challenge his masculinity. Kicking them, mostly. I'm sure he picked that up from Zeff.

Meanwhile, Zoro is THE most traditionally Masculine member of the crew besides Sanji by a long shot (Franky is in 3rd place as a self-professed freak with blue hair and pronouns who refuses to wear pants). Zoro is buffer than Sanji. And seemingly more stoic than Sanji. And Zoro has cool scars and uses three swords and his muscles are bigger and half the time he's not even wearing a shirt.

This masculinity contest between them was present before the timeskip too, but it's really the only good explanation for the extremeness of Sanji's sour attitude the moment he lays eyes on post-timeskip Zoro and remarks, aloud, "He's back. Like I really care..." after how much appreciation Sanji showed for Zoro's sacrifice before the timeskip.

Sanji WOULD be annoyed at his crewmate's seemingly effortless, unshakeable masculinity after two years of doggedly avoiding non-consensual crossdressing and constantly fighting for his life to outrun gay thoughts.

Zoro's side of things so far post-timeskip seems a bit less wound-up than Sanji. Zoro never takes an insult sitting down, and also just enjoys making snide remarks, so if Sanji's going to argue with him there's no reason for Zoro not to argue back.

This is why I am a gay Zoro truther, even if that gayness has nothing to do with anyone on the crew. Because its fucking hilarious if Sanji is one-sidedly trying to out-hetero-masculinity a literal gay man.

[bellrocsgf]

Bellroc x GN! Reader

Disclaimers: I am using all he/she/they pronouns for Bellroc and just referring to them as all genders as to my knowledge they are androgynous, pls excuse me if I'm wrong about that

Congratulations, you successfully obtained a flamethrower girlfriend that hates all of humanity. How? good question, onto the head cannons :)

They always have a reason to be right next to you, it's a windy day in the Flying Fortress of the arcane order? what if you get blown away and fall and they need to catch you? You should just stay near him today. Skraels in the room? Youll get too cold! You need to stay next to me just incase (yes Bellrocs presence alone is warmth, they are your personal campfire). You have chores to do around the fortress? What if you get lost? it is giant, he will have Skrael take over watch today so Bellroc can accompany you. "Just admit you wanna spend time with me" "don't imply such nonsense, you are a mere mortal. Should danger arise, You need me to protect you" You get the gist, they aren't paranoid and needs your presence to relax them no no.. You're the one that needs them constantly 100%

He will never admit he is somewhat clingy and if you even dare insinuate that you will get a 2 hour lecture on why you're incorrect in ancient fancy Shakespeare sorcerer language, the "thou"s and "thine"s come out when they get defensive (I'm messing, they get flustered af when they get called out accurately but mask it like hell)

She is definitely the more dominant side of the relationship, if that wasn't obvious. She believes you are like glass and they are very protective of you, they won't outright say they worry for you. Nono you fool thinking they would admit that, they'll make up reasons you can't do certain things and why they have to always accompany you even in the fortress, you have a very hard time getting to touch grass and on the lucky occasion you're out alone, they're just stalking you from afar. They do understand your need for freedom and time to yourself... somewhat.. which is why you're allowed to leave at all, she doesn't necessarily want to upset you so best case scenario, you will never find out whenever you go outside they use spells or even just stalk you themselves 24/7. just to make sure you're safe.. and you come back

cough cough moving on

they will get offended if you ever use a lighter or any other means for a heat source

yes I'm fr, they won't admit it though because he would feel weak to care about that

Bellroc's love language is quality time 100% however they believe human affection is.. stupid. Stuff like cuddling, pda, kissing yeah no and they will say that very confidently. However they wouldn't necessarily stop you if you decided to hug them, they would be confused as to be honest, Nari is the only one that's ever hugged them in their billions of years of existence, also Skrael but that's like a once in a millennium thing and neither of them will ever admit it (they both feel its a weak thing and also they don't like to admit they do have genuine care for each other). If you hug them they will probably just very awkwardly put an arm around you and if you're lucky, they will sit on their knees so you can properly reach them (reminding you they are 6'8... AHH-)

They are willing to stay in your room with you at night or just have you in their own chambers even though they rarely need sleep but if you think they're cuddling you oh nuhuh they are literally just standing at your door staring at you all night. However, if you nag enough and pull the "its so cold" card they might just give you one night, but you are NEVER TO TELL THE OTHERS

Bellroc doesn't in the slightest want to seem soft for you even if they are. They do actually have a slight aversion to touch, it got a lot worse after they were blinded (I head cannon its a spell that allows them to use the pauldrons as eyes and it can get tiring so most of the time they like to just chill out when they can) because of course, now they don't always know somethings gonna touch them before it does. However, there's a minor exception for you

Im tired, pls bring this fandom to life and give me more bellroc

fin.

[saintsenara]

I actually think Snape would not have been able to produce a Patronus without Lily in his life! I can imagine that without being challenged with her innocence about the wizarding world as a child, without striving to deserve her friendship (failing eventually, but either way), and without his feelings for her grounding him, he’d have spiralled into a dark path much earlier, with no return ticket.

i actually don't back this, i'm afraid, anon.

in general, i really don't like the way the series uses two pieces of magic - the patronus charm and the killing curse - as a dividing line between the goodies and the baddies.

we know that the order shoot to kill - lupin tells harry that he's stupid for not doing so - and there's no reason why they wouldn't use a curse with a flawless [unless what you're attempting to blast is a bit of your own soul] outcome. we also know that at least one unambiguous villain - umbridge - can produce a patronus, and i see no reason not to assume that plenty of the death eaters also can.

indeed, how i understand the patronus charm is drawn - for my sins - from the workaround jkr gives on pottermore in an attempt to explain why umbridge is able to produce one, when the books emphasise the charm's connection to those of [in its view, at least] undeniable moral purity:

A rare few witches and wizards of questionable morals have succeeded in producing the Charm (Dolores Umbridge, for example, is able to conjure a cat Patronus to protect herself from Dementors). It may be that a true and confident belief in the rightness of one’s actions can supply the necessary happiness. 

i actually think this - the idea that the strength needed to produce the charm would be connected to one's level of righteousness - explains the way it features throughout canon much more neatly.

harry - generally completely unwavering in his belief in the righteousness of his actions at any given time - finds it easy to produce one. so do the members of dumbledore's army [who are able to be taught one of the hardest spells in the wizarding arsenal without any trouble whatsoever by a fifteen-year-old], who evidently aren't united by moral spotlessness [zacharias smith nation, rise up], but are united by the unshakable conviction that what they're doing is the right thing. hermione, in contrast, finds the patronus to be one of the only charms she struggles with outside of controlled spaces - not, it's clear, because she's less noble or less happy than harry, but because she's bad under pressure, and clearly panics too much to ignite the unbending, righteous spark needed to call her patronus up.

[and voldemort - who clearly can't produce one - finds himself in this position not because of the atrophy of his soul, but because his inability to be honest about anything - especially his inability to be honest about the inevitability of death and the value of love - makes it impossible for him to have the requisite strength of purpose.]

and if there's one thing we know about the adolescent snape, it's that he thinks he's got all the answers.

part of the collapse of his friendship with lily comes from his inability to understand why she won't just shut up and accept his view of the world - why she won't defer to his opinions on the marauders, why she won't be moved by his insistence that mulciber's use of dark magic was trivial, and why, it's heavily implied, she doesn't agree with his evident belief that voldemort will help them both [lily is, after all, just as in need of a powerful patron to help her navigate the entrenched class-system of the wizarding world]. he doesn't become a death eater while entertaining a kernel of doubt - he becomes a death eater because he's one hundred percent on board with what the lads are planning for the world.

his damascus moment switches the force of that conviction - makes protecting [and then avenging] lily the only thing he thinks it's worth living, fighting, and dying for - but it doesn't create it. he was prime patronus material all along. it was just a crow carrying a knife, rather than a doe...

[oops-all-concrete]

I'm doing another BG3 companions headcanons dump, since I enjoyed the last one a lot! So please enjoy;

BG3 COMPANIONS REACT TO; TAV IS SCARED!

(For further context, companions reacting to Tav having to be around something they don't like, eg; water, small spaces, fire, undead etc, or they're just jumpy in general. Also, romance is not established, but implied!)

Wall of fluff below, enjoy

Lae'zel -

It depends on the fear. If it's something like a cave that's barely holding up or the group is sneaking past a hoard, she'll agree the situation is critical, but encourage focus. "I'd also like for this to be over. But it won't be if we hesitate and dally" but if it's something like heights or rivers, she doesn't understand...but she will become a githyanki barrier between Tav and whatever is causing them stress.

Shadowheart -

She's pretty understanding of most fears. She freezes at the mere howl of a distant wolf, so if Tav flinches at the crackle of fire or the smell of blood, so be it. She keeps an eye out and tries to find work arounds if the group is about to enter somewhere Tav is going to hate. If it's unavoidable, she's as gentle as possible. "We've got this. It'll be over before you know it, I promise you. Then we'll never have to do this again."

Wyll -

He'll make it as tolerable as possible, but will encourage Tav to face their fears head on. "I'm not scared. I have no reason to be and neither do you, because I won't let anything happen to you" he'll promise. Won't push, won't complain. Just keeps Tav in arms reach and stays calm. He's proudly Tavs dedicated rock. And sheild. And blade. He sasses anybody has anything to say about it.

Karlach -

"Don't worry. Mama K is the best teifling sheild around, from here to Avernus! Stick close" She smiles, confident as ever. Even if she is scared too, she'll pretty much forget about that while Tav is scared. Tav is her main priority, and she let's them know proudly. Anyone else says anything? She's reaching for the greataxe.

Gale -

Doesn't want you to be embarrassed, so he tells you about a silly fear he has. Has a knack for rambling Tav into distraction, so he takes advantage as best he can of their attention. Of course in a moment of panic he'll drop the 'I did something stupid' fake laughter and immediately stop everything. "We can go, right now. I'm sure we can find another way to do this, we always do. I don't care if it takes longer, it's got to be better than watching you shake like that"

Astarion -

He pretends not to notice. Not because he doesn't care, but comfort has never been his strong suit. He worries he's going to make it all worse if he addresses Tav about it. Instead he occupies himself with laughing about whatever situation they're in. If he knows anything, its how to be disarming, and laughter works like a charm...but if it doesn't and nobody else steps in to comfort Tav, he'll do it- granted the words are coming out before he can think too hard; "Look at me. You have survived a goblin camp of cultists, an entire githyanki creche- we met after crashing from a nautaloid ship with illithid worms in our heads. This is nothing. You're stronger than this."

Bonus! (the elders)

Halsin -

He can tell they're nervous before Tav can. He checks in regularly and asks repeatedly if there's anything else he can do to make it all easier. Once it gets to be too much, he calls it for Tav. "I understand if you'd rather myself and a few others handle this. While I'm proud of you for staying, I can promise you no disappointment if you wish to leave. Your wellbeing isn't worth sacrificing for this"

Jaheira -

Similar to Halsin, she's very quick to pick up on when something upsets Tav even if they don't say anything. She subtly keeps an ear out for how well they're holding up, and will make excuses for Tav to take breaks and get further away from the thing they're scared of. "Apologies, but this old druid needs to rest her old lady hips. Tav, it would be safer if we both went to that safe spot there, come on." Jaheira won't bring it up, but its easy to figure out what she's doing.

Minsc -

He doesn't notice for a while, even if its obvious, but once it occurs to him, he draws an obnoxious amount of attention to it. Granted he's also asking people to get between you and the source of discomfort and will tell anyone who so much as sighs to politely shut the fuck up. If he thinks it will help, he will put Boo on Tavs shoulder. "Boo is a war criminal! Everything fears Boo. He'll protect you from all the nasties, won't you Boo?"

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you guys have any prompt ideas, I'd LOVE to write more ^^

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Tell me something Miller gave up

Do you ever think about media and stories reflecting the anxieties of the cultures that create them? Or how sci-fi sometimes predicts or inspires technology? Do you ever think about Halo and Aliens and Starship Troopers and disaster movies and real life and

I poured my brain out onto a page stream of consciousness style so it's a mess, but a fun, terrifying one I hope

hi

-

There's a lot of buzzwords people throw around. People saying one thing but meaning seven different things. The difference between sacrificing and giving up. Victory at any cost, pyrrhic, hollow. A play for time.

Sacrificing something is good and noble and for the greater need of the many. Giving up is cowardly and shameful. These words are black and white, most of the time. Other words like risk, are more complicated. A risk can pay off or it can put everyone in danger. A risk can be a sacrifice or it can be worse than giving up.

Miller's from a generation that doesn't know what it's like to live without war. To live without the threat of surveillance, both foreign and domestic, enemies listening in or sacrificing privacy for the greater good. Some planets get labelled with the words too, once they're glassed. As a kid, Jared thought it was strange to think anyone gave up their planet, their home, or that somehow the planet gave up. It was the bad guys.

The bad guys are scary and if they find you they will kill you. They destroy your homes and your way of life. They might eat you! They speak a different language and have technology that can kill you before you can blink. That's why you need to be careful and a good citizen. The UNSC is doing its best to keep the colonies safe, but if they would just listen then the bad guys wouldn't get them. That's why you can help be a good citizen and fight the bad guys. All you have to do is sign up when you're 16! You can be a marine or a pilot or drive a tank or maybe even meet one of them. The UNSC needs you, but also it is doing great on its own! The war effort requires everyone! But do not panic, panicking is weak and cowardly and helps the bad guys.

The bad guys are unstoppable, but also weak and stupid. They can't stop the UNSC's greatest weapon.

The Master Chief is a hero and he stops the bad guys. There are other Spartans too and they always win. They never give up. They never die.

Miller enlists. He works hard. He's an asset, not a drain. He won't give up.

The war ends. The news around Master Chief quiets. Miller becomes a Spartan IV. There's always still more work to be done. There are different bad guys now. Some of them look like him.

Miller learns that not every alien is a bad guy. There are asylum seekers on multiple worlds, even Earth. Refugee is another word for asylum seeker.

Miller's in an early enough class of IVs to become a mission handler. He works intelligence and planning. He keeps his head down and ears open. He learns more than he wanted. Sacrificing children. Giving up homes? Childhoods? Giving up requires a choice in the matter. He thinks about it. Sacrificing also implies a choice.

IVs have a choice. He was an adult when he signed on. To be a Spartan. He was still under 18 when he joined the UNSC but that's okay. He knows other Spartans who are in the same boat. Other IVs are older. They have even more skin in the game, they've been fighting the bad guys longer.

The bad guys have changed but that's okay because while they're strong they're weaker than Spartans and Spartans never die. Except Miller has lost Spartans. He's seen whole Fireteams wiped out in an instant. He's heard people dying on worlds a million miles from home for no clear reason.

The bad guys are there because the good guys- the UNSC - are there. Spartans are the UNSC's gun they point at the bad guys. Some of the bad guys are humans again. Some of the aliens are good guys. Why is there still a war? Why do they need Spartans for this? Manufactured conflict.

Sacrifice or giving up? Wasted or Spent?