#should I start making ship tags but that would mean having to tag more things

[windupiceheart]

[streetsandsodiumlights]

(tags from @no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist)

By the way "some aroace people still date and have sex" and "it's weird how internet spaces makes every single aroace character romance and sex favourable" can and should co-exist. Sincerely, an aroace person

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn.

Pairing: sauron/halbrand x reader, more pairings in the future to be tagged

Summary: In all beings, there exists darkness. when the deciver finds one who seems to defy this, he becomes obsessed with finding it within her. and if he can't find it, he will ruin her himself.

Tags/Warnings: clichés abound, opposites attract, sauron being evil but also hot but also evil, no use of y/n. This is pretty barebones. There's not much to tag, I don't think.

Notes: there was a lot of interest in this when I made a post. This is not super duper long and a Lil choppy but I wanna see what people think. Lemme know if you like it. If I should continue it. I have a lot of ideas. It's all written and edited on my phone so I'm sorry if it looks bad or mistakes were made.

Series Masterlist

The wind from the sea felt nice on his face. After so many years spent as nothing more than mud and slime, it was nice to feel. Feel anything. Freedom, independence, revenge. His plan to create order and heal the world would come to fruition. Being stuck on a ship with these men was worth that price. They were like bugs. If he wanted to, he could squash them and feel nothing. Though there was one who spoke to him kindly as a mentor would, and there was the ever so slight stirring of emotions he presumed were long dead. The old man was enough to make him question what it was he desired. Did he want to be good? Did he want a fresh start? What about his plans? The desire for order was there, the want to heal the world and bring peace, but would he get that through evil, through deceit and violence? Or could that be obtained another way? He continued to stare over the vast ocean as the wheels in his head turned, and he waged a war inside himself.

"It's beautiful, is it not?" A voice broke through the silence of the night.

He turned sharply, greeted by the image of a young woman. You were beautiful. He noticed it right away. Never had he looked at a human and thought they were beautiful. The thought was usually reserved for elves, but you were different. He could tell just by looking. You were soft, gentle, pure. There was a light to you that permeated all of your features.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. We have more food tonight than expected, and you had been on your own so long before finding us. I supposed you might be hungry." You held up a bowl for him, which he accepted with a nod.

"Thank you. I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Halbrand."

You smiled softly back at him, giving him your name and taking a few small steps towards him. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He watched you. It was curious. Everyone here was gruff and rude, not wanting to help a stranger, yet you brought him a bowl of soup instead of keeping it for yourself. He watched as you looked up at the stars and how they were reflected back in your eyes. Humans didn't often intrigue him, but you did.

He leaned back against the railing of the boat with his arms crossed, but before he could speak to ask his question, you spoke.

"The stars are beautiful, aren't they? The light against the immense darkness. It reminds us that there is light in all things. Even in the darkest of times, there is hope."

"Your people were just slaughtered by orcs. You're on the run. Hope in the stars seems pretty useless." His eyes watched you with keen interest.

"Hope is never useless. Without it, all is lost." The earnestness in your voice further fueled his curiosity.

"And what do you hope for in times like this?"

"A new start. A place to start fresh..."

"Yes," he interrupted, "That is what all hope for, but what do you hope a new place or fresh start will do? What do you want from it?"

"I want a safe place to lay my head. I want to live without shame. I want fresh air and to grow my food and I want music and I want laughter. I want to drink tea with my friends. I want to love and feel the wind on my face. I want happiness. I want peace." You smiled and closed your eyes as you pictured this serene future.

He watched you, his brows furrowed. You were odd, but he wasn't sure if that was a bad thing as of yet.

"You have a lot of this hope. It's almost oozing out of you. I can almost taste it." He took a step towards you. "As if there is no evil out there."

"There is evil, yes, but there is good. Do we despair because there is evil or have hope because there is good? I do not think there is truly anything that is created evil. Evil is only when the good is taken from someone, and if you're able to take it, then it's able to be taken back." Your eyes had opened, and you looked up at him.

"I doubt you'd believe that if you knew the evil I'd done."

"Thousands of years ago, the people of the southlands sided with Morgoth. Our ancestors fought alongside the most evil being to ever exist. Most would say that the things our people did were deplorable and worthy of the worst shame. But I look upon my home, I look upon the people I have grown with, and I do not see evil. The people here, I am but a stranger to them. I have yet to meet most of them, but they took me in, as they did you. If my ancestors were evil, they could not have created such good."

“Whatever evil you did, it can be forgiven. You can do good, be good.” You moved closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. The feeling brought a sense of warmth that he had not felt since before he joined Morgoth, when he went by a different name. His eyes traveled down to where your hand rested, and you dropped it back to your side. He'd found himself missing the feeling.

"Your ancestors did do evil, though. They did plenty of evil things. Just as I have."

"Did they do evil out of the desire to be evil? Or did they do evil to protect those they loved? Were they born that way, destined to be only evil? Were you made evil? Or was it thrust upon you in a moment of hopelessness? Does every being have the capability to do both good and evil?"

He was left stunned at what you said, it took longer than usual for him to come up with a response. He wet his lips, looking over the ocean for a moment before looking at you once more. Your hair was gently blowing in the breeze of the ocean and he found the sight captivating. His intuition told him you were telling the truth, that you believed the words you were saying with your whole being. How could that be? There had to be some darkness that motivated you, that tainted your soul.

Everyone had darkness.

His mind played over the interaction long after it had happened. He wanted to feel that warmth again. You were a puzzle, a mystery. He would not know peace until he figured out what darkness was inside you because surely there had to be something. It was one of the many things that plagued his mind late at night. He watched as you slept peacefully. You were rows and rows down from him, but he could zoom in on your form. He watched your chest rise and fall, the calm of your features. You were a mystery that he had to solve.

This was what was on his mind when the worm attacked. He needed to know you. Even now, he watched as you attempted to help an elderly woman stuck under a beam instead of rushing to safety yourself. He couldn't bring himself to save the old man, but his fingers wrapped around the relic, and as water rushed the ship, he lept over and shielded your body with his.

He couldn't let you die. He had to understand you, to know you, to find out what motivated you, he would find your inner darkness.

And if he couldn't, he'd ruin you instead.

next

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.3. USER 7193

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . feels by calvin harris

maybe he should have expected this. 

nearly all of his posts have been overrun with questions about y/n in the comments. the comments range from simple “who was the girl in your cooking stream??” demands to extremely specific ones detailing her exact hair color, height, and voice pitch as if he’s had another mysterious girl on a stream that he’ll confuse her for.

he’s been doing his best to avoid questions about her but it could only work for so long. now there’s only questions about y/n left in the chat and he’s not sure what to do. it was easy to ignore the questions when he wasn’t doing an entire question and answer live stream but he’d promised to do one soon and he thought having shoyo with him was going to help. 

it did for the most part, and everything seemed normal but he was at a loss for words when the chat started to flood with questions about y/n.

shoyo leaned closer to read a question outloud, “‘girl from the cooking stream?’ i keep seeing that, do they not know–”

a reflex kicks in and he slaps a hand over shoyo’s mouth, pushing him away from the screen again before removing his hand trying to act normal.

the ginger looks at him, a mix of surprise and confusion on his face. “sorry,” kenma apologizes quickly, shocked by his own actions. “no, they don’t know anything about her,” he answers, trying to make it clear that he wants to keep it that way.

but the chat is already too far gone, using this one mention to run wild with theories. he can’t blame them, really. sometimes they’re a little over the top and unnecessarily pushy as if they have no sense of respect but in this scenario what else could they talk about besides a mysterious person that just entered the picture? but that didn't mean he enjoyed dealing with it.

messages transition quickly from asking what they “don’t know about” to inferring that he has a secret girlfriend. he groans, looking away from the screen. his mind working fast to try and come up with an excuse or explanation; a single mention of her and they already think he’s dating someone. he’s sure that the internet would go crazy with this information as well, fabricating stories, scandals, and everything in between.

his phone starts to buzz.

speak of the devil.

it’s a notification from twitter, some unofficial update account that’s tagged him about having a secret girlfriend.

he needs to think.

he can see shoyo eyeing him out of the corner of his eyes and he knows he’s been silent for too long on camera.

god, someone was going to find out who she was soon, right? weren’t fans supposed to be good at doxxing each other?

but how does he play off being roommates with an olympic athlete? an olympic athlete whose currently being shipped to the max with the most typical copy and paste guy everyone has the hots for?

maybe it’d be better for him to leave it to a random fan to find out who she is and announce it to the world–no, then he’ll just look bad for hiding things after so much has already come to light. it’s best for him to come up with an excuse right now. if he said she was his girlfriend maybe he could ask them to leave her alone. maybe they’d listen to him.

it sounded like his best option but he couldn’t just make that decision on his own without talking to her.

but he also couldn’t stand up and the leave the room for an unprecedented amount of time after keeping quiet for so long.

he looks at the chat one more time, seeing the word girlfriend in nearly every message. if they already think they’re dating it can’t be that bad, right?

“kenma…?” shoyo breaks him out of a trance, touching him on the back.

kenma looks at him, unsure of what to say. he feels dizzy and his mind won’t stop whirring with thoughts and worries.

“you’ve been really quiet,” shoyo lowers his voice so that only kenma can hear him, “i think you need to say something.”

he glances at the chat again. still stuff about y/n.

she’d be okay with it, right? maybe if she isn’t he’ll just tell twitter that his girlfriend broke up with him because his fans are pushy little shits and he’ll agree with her word for word and then his fans will cancel him and he can move to another country and live a happy little life working in a cat shelter–

no. he likes his life the way it is now. he’s winged everything so far but he’s grown quite a small community for himself this way. he can do this. if y/n doesn’t agree, he’ll figure something out later.

“okay,” kenma finally speaks, dropping his hands that he’s been running through his hair absentmindedly. “since none of you guys are gonna leave this alone, yes. the girl from that last stream is my girlfriend, happy?” he watches his chat run wild with numerous exclamations. he thinks finally about his poor moderators. he’ll definitely have to give them something after this stream. “i’ve been trying to lay low about it because i didn’t want the world to freak out but now it’s out. just try and be respectful, okay? i love her a lot.” the words aren’t hard to say when they’re about her. he can say them honestly and play them off as a joke later, but for now he enjoys how nice it feels to say it.

he can see that shoyo has frozen up out of the corner of his eye. he needs to end this stream before either of them say something else they shouldn’t. he’ll answer a few more questions and slowly ease into a goodbye so that he can end the stream and debrief shoyo.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

this is a long chapter i'm sorry 💀 literally there's more but i tried to split this evenly into two chapters

kenma was literally just going through some random person's account who made edits of ice skating partners to self sabotage himself

yn wasn't sure when they'd be releasing partner pair ups and really freaked out when they were announced

she was texting everyone and tweeting a ton

she messaged her media girl like "hey i'm not comfortable with people sending me writing shipping me with atsumu can we please do something about it" and the girl replied, "what do you want me to do?? report them?? write you a message that you can tweet about your boundaries?? (yes) if that's what they want to write deal with it at least they like u"

and they wonder why she just posts whatever she's feeling on her main unless iwa tells her otherwise

noya has gotten distracted from the main topic of a chat to reply with a <3 to something nice y/n says multiple times

they're fr just best buds holding hand in the middle of a warzone where iwaizumi reigns over all

(the only two soldiers are suna and tsukishima)

suna's a lot softer without tsukishima around

he just feels like he needs his guard up around such a salty person

do not ask me why i made rofltropper an antagonist for no reason

kageyama was really just trying to finally do his english homework while waiting for hinata to come home and then he heard kuroo and oikawa start to yell

he was a little scared but then was like "if they can't reach me i'm safe" and they they slammed the door shut and his room shook a little

someone on the floor probably wrote up a complaint about them

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @whykirbo @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @starxq.zip @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[deathdetermineslife]

I genuinely cannot stand you and your account. Every time I make a new account, you're always the in selfship tags filling it up with your terrible art and shitty posts. You are a waste of space and no one in this community likes you. Your f/o (who isnt YOUR f/o by the way, stop calling him that) doesn't love you, he definitely thinks you're annoying and wouldn't love you in any universe. I want you to know that I have an entire group of selfshippers I'm friends with that wish you'd do the world a favor and kill yourself, just so you know. It doesn't matter if you block me, by the way, because I can and will make new accounts to try to make you feel like shit. I pray to God every day you get in a terrible accident and die a slow and painful death. You mischaracterize "your" f/o (just a reminder, he doesn't love you and wishes you were dead!), you make the entire selfshipping community look stupid, and you're a sharer, too, which means you don't actually love any of your f/os anyways. You should get off of Tumblr. I'm serious, several of my friends are skilled hackers and will dox you. You don't deserve any of the merchandise you own, you don't deserve to be happy, really. And don't even try to tell me that since I'm a proshipper this goes against my "antiharassment values" or whatever I'm sure you'll try to say, every single proshipper I've spoken to thinks you're a hypocritical, disgusting, terrible individual that doesn't deserve the likes and attention you get. I seriously cannot believe anyone will a brain follows you. They probably do because antis don't have brains. They're retards that like throwing pedophile accusations at anyone that breathes. You all are some of the most idiotic and stupid people I've ever seen in my entire life. I cannot stand you. No one likes you, any mutual you think you have is secretly hoping you die, and trust me, a few people I know who follow you or at the very least have reblogged your things are secret proshippers! Isn't that terrible? I'm sure you think so. Because you think we're so bad, don't you? You think that all of us are rapists and evil people that deserve the death penalty. Every time someone reblogs the art you make and says "otp" and "I ship it", just know they're lying to you, they don't believe that, in fact, everyone's out to get you and no one likes you. And that server you own? Just know no one in there likes you. All of the friends you probably think you have? They don't like being around you. He doesn't love you, no one loves you, and if you have more f/os, they don't like you either. Your familial f/os want to disown you, your platonic f/os wish you weren't friends with them, and every single romantic f/o you THINK YOU HAVE does not LOVE YOU they DON'T LOVE YOU and they NEVER WILL. THEY DON'T LOVE YOU. Every person I have talked to you about agrees they wish you didn't exist they wish you never made an account they wish you never started posting to selfship Tumblr. You are lucky that your main blog isn't linked here because if it was, I would be sending asks there too so you'd have to delete your main blog too, and maybe then you wouldn't come back to Tumblr. The entire selfship community hates you and your lazy posts that a five-year-old could write up. In fact, just so you know, I regularly steal your posts and post them to the proselfship tag and they get more attention than your blog. Antis are the minority in fandom, no one likes antis. Not a single person likes them, you're all braindead children who have no morals or understanding of the world. This website would be better without you on it. I know you'll post this, and I know that there's probably going to be people in the replies telling you that they love you so much and that you're a good person and that "your" f/o loves you but he doesn't love you and he never will love you and you're absolutely fucking delusional if you think so. I fucking hate you. I'll continue to ban evade until I can push you off of this website. You can't get away from me and I will dox you.

uh oh someone let grandpa out of the nursing home again. also you sound like an evil supervillain. you expect me to take this seriously? this CANNOT be serious I'm giggling so fucking hard

anyways, heres all the art i have of me and korekiyo!

also bad news buddy, i dont have any familial or platonic f/os. womp womp. go back to algebra class, lil bro.

[alastors-antlers]

Being someone who sees a lot of talk about shipping Alastor (sexually, romantically) in fanworks, I just want to take some time to talk about both sides of the issue. It's long, I know - please, please bear with me until the end, and I hope you'll understand what I mean in a bit.

I hope this helps someone, but as an aroace person who understands the frustration and hurt, this is often how it feels to me:

Alastor, being one of the limited cases of aspec rep that I've seen and one of even fewer which I actually enjoyed, means a lot to me.

That being said, his canon rep establishes that he's aroace but not much about how this factors into his life or relationships at all -- and when there's a gap in canon, I turn to fanfiction, which tends to spotlight characters' queerness even when the source material doesn't or can't. Don't we all want to see ourselves in the media we engage with?

When I pull up AO3, there are already a good number of fics about him. Great! Some of them are definitely incredible; but as I read on, it starts to seem like a lot of fics I see acknowledge that he's asexual or aromantic in some way but don't really factor that into the story. It reads like you could have written the story without keeping his queer identity in mind, and it would've come out the same.

Even when representation that does resonate with me exists, it starts to be exhausting to pick through the slash tags to see which ones are written in an aspec-coded way, so I wonder if it would be easier to not read anything with slash at all. On the other hand, when you filter ships out completely, only a tiny fraction of the fanworks are left.

People often respond that aspec people can have relationships, and I think we tend to know that. They can have sex, some can experience sexual attraction in select situations, they can romance others beyond romantic attraction -- any combination of things. But some aroace people don't want either, and sometimes we're struggling to see ourselves in how Alastor is typically portrayed.

Out of all of the fics, sex-repulsed, totally aromantic Alastor isn't seen much. And when Alastor's limited canon seems to be pretty supportive of a reading where he is those things...

Sometimes, you start to feel lost. If fics were evenly distributed along the aroace spectrum of experiences, wouldn't you expect more fics of him being the "totally uninterested" brand of aroace? But there aren't. People seem to have a preference toward seeing him in relationships. Even if they mean well, it can make you think: what does that say about how we view asexuality/aromanticism as a whole?

Is there something less interesting about Alastor, when romance is taken out of the picture? Do others find him less appealing as a character if they can't see him dating, or in love, or having sex or wanting it? Why do we need romance, when romance is already everywhere else, when it doesn't even feel like he was originally really interested? It brings to mind a struggle to be societally accepted, even today.

Even when it's not technically wrong to write Alastor as you see him, being told that we should all be able to ship him however we want can feel like this:

It brings to mind people who try to swing in with misinformed good intentions, telling us "oh, you're aromantic? but you can still have romantic relationships, right? so you can still be normal." when all we want is to be okay outside of the normal.

Or trying to find a partner who can be with us, out of everyone who tells us "I know you don't enjoy sex, and that's okay, but I can't have a romantic relationship with you without it." and being so tired of hoping for someone who gets it.

Or talking with peers, and hearing them all commiserate and fawn over their experiences with love, then telling them about someone you like non-romantically and getting "aww, it sounds like somebody's got a crush!" but not being believed when you tell them it's not like that at all.

Alastor is not a big deal, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. But in an allonormative world, it can feel like a sudden splash of cold water when we were expecting a warm fire to sit around. Even within this ecosystem, we squint to see ourselves reflected.

Society isn't built for us. It can be exhausting to be reminded of that.

~~~

I hope to support people writing Alastor as any variation of aspec, or not even aspec at all. At the end of the day, I think that fanon is really whatever you want it to be, and everyone has their own reasons for writing what they find enjoyable. They should be allowed to do so, and I want to believe that people do what they do with good intentions.

They want to imagine scenarios with the templates of characters they love, and that's okay; even beyond sexuality/queer identities/etc., fan interpretations of characters can be incredibly, wildly different from who they really are in the story anyway, and that's what I try to remind myself. But still, I also can't help feeling disappointed about the aroace representation we could have seen.

(Is Alastor canonically sex-repulsed? Uhh, maybe. If I had to guess, that'd be my top guess, but this might be a hot take: I wouldn't really say there's enough to go off of considering that this view is supported by Angel propositioning him both times, and it's not like Alastor is a particularly big fan of Angel at those points anyway lol)

To my fellow aroaces struggling with Alastor's fandom rep: if you need a break from it all; if you need to block the tags that you hate; if you need to talk to someone about how you're feeling; that's okay. It makes sense that you'd want more representation in a way that helps you feel seen and validated and less alone. I can't speak for everyone, but I think I get it.

I don't have any solutions for how you're feeling, because sometimes I'm feeling the same way. I understand that you want others to get your position and you have the right to express your feelings, but even if you're correct, often being angry or frustrated won't help change others' minds, so let's try to save our energy and take care of ourselves.

Something that helps me to think about is that even now, asexuality is gaining more visibility. We're gaining support. Real change is happening in the world that's helping incredible amounts of aspec people feel freer to be themselves. And maybe one day, we won't be reaching to protect our scraps of representation.

Let's fight until that day together <3

[tinydefector]

At this point if we're making this a thing the God Rung x MC are we calling this AU MC the God fcker 😂😂😂

Because I imagine after few weeks or months now they'll gonna be comfortable enough to make joke out of it.

Tyrest some how still in the ship: you should pray before I kill you

MC: don't worry I already pray my hands in knees for your god and suck him off

Those who are watching this turn to Rung who's face already blushing red(or blue idk).

Rung avoiding eye contact: >\\\\<

Whirl: eh nice

I love God fucker MC, them being the feisty snappy human to the very sweet Therapist who is God. Got another Rung AU now to add to the Wings of Primus AU.

But I'm also now just thinking about what other human crew think. The number of Virgin Mary jokes. Fuck just the amount of Jokes in general which get thrown their way.

Rungs lover is going about their day blissfully unaware of the chaos that is multiple humans interrogating Rung. Him finally gets a breather and sneaks off to speak with them privately. "I believe the rest of your crew are rather concerned about our relationship " he says while fixing his glasses and trying to not to spook them.

"What have they been telling you now?" They ask with a soft smile when they finally see him. "They seem rather worried about me, umm.. putting a Sparkling in your chamber. " he tries not to wince as he explains the other humans rather crude thoughts.

It makes them tense up before shock and horror flashed across their face. "Ahhh. Don't listen to a word any of them say. Please, they are just trying to get under your plating. I promise they mean nothing by it!" Rung can see the embarrassment in their movements as he tries to calm them down.

"Please, just settle. I just want to know why they would be worried about something like that. One of them mentioned a book of your people, saying something along the 'second coming'?" He's curious but at the same time doesn't want to overstep if it's something rather personal to human kind.

"Ahhh, I'm going to strangle them, next they are going to say I'm Virgin Mary and start making jokes about that around ship" the grumble to themself only for Rung to scoop them up into his arms. "My dear, is there something I've done wrong, I know we talked about my 'issue' but it seems it's slowly becoming something that is causing you trouble" he had his worries even after they continued their relationship after the whole 'Primus incident' as they called it.

"Beloved, please talk to me." His voice is ever soft as he traces his digits across their cheek. They lean into his touch, taking a deep breath and sighing. "Nothing bad, I promise, just stupid Earth religion thing," they start, eyes flicking open to watch him. "Earth has its own collection of religions kinda like Cybertron, one of the stories is about a young woman who gives birth to the son of 'God', I think people are mainly making jokes over the similarities" they slowly explains, it makes Runsg optic flicker as he looks at them stunned.

"Oh my," he murmurs optics flicking down to their stomach, "you're not carrying?" He asked slightly worried only for them to laugh. "No, no I'm not carry handsome, humans like to make rumours tend to make alot more than Cybertronians, I'm more surprised it's only that God they are making jokes about" they tease softly while pressing a kiss to his lips.

His frame seems to relax into the kiss. " I would like to hear some of these stories one day" he hums against their lips. "I'll see if I can find a bible and some other religious text from some others, but just watch out, some fo them might start calling you Zeus" they chuckle. It makes him smile watching how their eyes catch light.

_______

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[spechblend]

My Guide to Patch/Crust DIY Pants That No One Asked For:

(If you see this guide go through changes, you’re not crazy, I update it all the time)

I’ve noticed that my DIY pants had been noticed on here, so I’d thought I make a guide for new punks getting into the scene 💖

I’ve been in the punk scene for a little over two years now, so don’t take everything I say to heart, I’ve got lots to learn.

Typically, you want to start out with a good base. For instance, the pants you choose can make or break your project. I don’t suggest buying super expensive pants, but don’t buy them super low quality either. You want something that lasts, as crust or patch pants are meant to be your only pair.

EDIT: Before I start any new project, I look around my stuff to see if I can repurpose anything. Old T shirts, bed sheets, bags, you name it. It’s so much easier to repurpose your stuff before buying new things, and you save money doing it. Before you buy pants, see if you can find a pair you already own! I had to buy new ones because I only had one other pair of jeans that I wear to work.

I’ve seen some tutorials floating around for DIY can spikes. Please be very careful doing this. If you’re moshing in a vest made with cut up aluminum, you can seriously hurt someone if you’re not careful. Be on the safe side and either borrow/buy pre made studs and spikes or save the DIY can spikes for non-moshing vests/pants/cuffs.

If you’re moshing with any studs or spikes at ALL, they should be blunt!!!

Good places to buy pants

Thrift (it’s a bit of a crapshoot if you have a hard time finding sizes, but if they’ve lasted long enough to end up in a thrift store, then it means they’re more likely good quality. Check the tags!!)

Edited above, been informed of how Goodwill treats disabled employees

ASOS (I recommend if you have a hard time finding your size. I can’t guarantee the sustainability of this site though.)

Mercari (Like an online goodwill. I find a lot of awesome clothes on here. You can download the app.)

Depop (I seldom shop on here, but similar to Mercari with a wider range of brands.)

How the Pants Should Fit

The fit of your pants can also affect how they lay on you. I suggest buying pants slightly larger on you, if you’re covering them in patches. When you start sewing, you’re going to find that they’re going to shrink a little bit. So please avoid tight fitting jeans if you can! Straight or relaxed fit are the best.

EDIT: If skinny/fitting pants are all you got, sometimes making relief cuts at the knees help when you try to bend down.

Patches

Patches are going to be what makes your pants unique! There’s quite a few you can choose from: plain patches, band patches, politics patches, etcetera. If you’re going to cover the entirety of your pants, I suggest going to Joann’s or Michaels (fuck Hobby Lobby) for fabric. Buy a yard or two canvas or pleather (or both). Otherwise, I usually cut up old T-shirts for my fabric.

How to Make Your Own Patches

Stencil (very straightforward, here’s a guide) (please check out Anarchostensilism on insta/Tiktok/Deviantart)

Paint (Buy white/black stencil fabric paint. I don’t suggest acrylic, since it’s not made to move with fabric)

Where to Buy Pre Printed Patches

crustpunks.com (Hella good, fast shipping, affordable!! Made by punks for punks)

nuclearwasteunderground.com (I found this one randomly)

Etsy (While I hate them for the way they treat their sellers, unfortunately this can be a main source of income for some.)

Shows, punk meets, friends

If you’re going to make crust pants, it’s imperative that you have crust bands on your patches, that’s what makes them crust! (Apart from never washing them)

Edit: I would do your own research on the crust punk subculture, there’s a lot of discourse out there on what makes punks crust punks and so on.

Washing your pants is not a black and white rule, but you can ruin the integrity of your work if you carelessly throw them in the washer. Like if you were to throw a suede jacket into the washer, there’s certain steps to take!

Here’s an enlightening guide on crust.

Here’s some crust band recs!

Nausea

Anti Cimex

Dystopia (my favorite)

disrupt

Doom

Heresy

Discharge

Amebix

Things to Add to Your Pants

Buttons (you can buy or make your own. Here’s a guide for DIY bottle cap buttons)

Pockets (easy to monkey wrench with a few spare patches, but here’s a pattern)

Handkerchiefs (the hankey code, much like the lace code, is pretty much dead. But it’s up to you if you want to signal something with it.)

Wallet chains (here’s a cool guide to making your own!)

Bum flap (by far the coolest thing on this list. Makes your ass not hurt when you sit on the sidewalk. Here’s a video)

Make them convertible (I made mine into zip off shorts. Here’s a video)

I made this up, but I added removable knee pads to mine.

Pant Inspiration

Have no shame in taking reference! Here’s are some cool accounts with awesome pants!

carnifexofhate

dontditchitstitchit

no_name_no_reason

okshrimpet

annals_of_the_crustwar

a_lifeisabuse_e

That’s all I got! Remember to never wash your pants ✨

[pinkyjulien]

I did not expect hostility over my Flat Chest mod, so I'll half acknowledge it and kill some of the assumption before they take roots in other people's minds

No, I did not make this mod *because* I refuse to support Na's flat chest mod

Initial Mod idea was a working "binder" for Fem, something you'd equip to flatten the chest- like a real life binder, basically. It's part of my To-Do list of June, for Pride

The mod evolved as I got more ideas, I also started working on a body replacer, it's basically ready to ship as well, but I decided against it; not to step on toes and causing confusion with two "flat chest" body mods, knowing there is also another one in the work from a fellow modder

(the binders themselves will come much later, and will be available for both fem and masc body frames!)

Again, the mod started as a "binder"- I mentioned it multiple times, either in servers where I started sharing the idea, and in the tags of my mod post

"Binders" are not costumes. They are gender affirming aid, something a lot of person use; I've made a couple of "wearable" / "switchable" body parts mods in the past already, including a trans masc vagina, I really hope you don't see this as a costume as well?

In the universe of Cyberpunks, implants and synth skin are used by everyone, for all kind of purpose; GNC people, trans people and gender-fluid people would probably use implants and cyberware to sculpt themselves, feel comfortable in their body

Who's to say some rich citizen wouldn't have some fancy switchable body pieces- hell it's even canon in game, Mr.Stud and Mrs.Midnight? Switchable boobs are already a thing, I don't see what's wrong with switching up for a flatter chest

The survey's results aren't out yet, so I couldn't know. But that's beside the point, as my mod isn't a "bandaid" for any issue this fandom may have

If the name is causing trouble, I'm open to changing it; but the main goal, again, was to flatten the vanilla fem V chest, and I think "flat chest" is pretty straight forward for nexus users

Mmmh. Sorry but, no

Everyone is different and handle their own space differently, and I do not want to support people who did me, or my friends, any serious mental health damage. Be it from harassement, witch hunt and whatnot

I won't be dragging in there old drama from 2 years ago, but I simply won't support someone who tried to get a friend of mine fired from their work place, threatening to send a 30+ pages google doc to their leads and boss, and dragging all of their personal beefs to the public on multiple social medias. They ruined my friend's mental health, and I simply won't forgive nor forget.

That is my right. And I wish people would accept and respect that.

I won't tell anyone who to support or what mod to use/not use, NOBODY should tell you what to do, what to support, who to like or dislike; and nobody can control who I must support and what I must do. Simple as that

And I'm glad the flat chest body mod exist for people who wish to use it! I'm offering another option that I'm sure some people will find useful

Thank you :)

People already gave me trouble in the past for "doing work that already exist"

Those past few weeks has been eventful when it comes to "drama" especially involving Zwei, who's notorious for having a modding monopol and gatekeeping ideas in general

Let's not bring that same mindset here, yeah?

Everyone is free to mod what they want, whatever body they want, to refit what they want!

Again, just to point it out, mod isn't there to fix a problem, that's just a mod I wanted to make

It's a brand new mod, meaning it needs refiting; I did not test the flat chest bodymod, nor tried the already existing vanilla refit. And I won't, for the reasons I cited aboved a few lines before.

I'm glad you agree! Nobody has to do things they don't want to

You call it disingenuous, and I call it having principles/self respect; again, crazy how different people are from one another, and how we just can't assume everyone work and react the same as we do

I see, I see, the name is a big issue; I'm open to suggestion, feel free to leave a reply and I'll see what catches my eyes

Cause It's still my mod, so I get to decide

Anyway, hope this cleared up a few things, and sorry this made people upset!

For everyone else, thank you for the support 🧡

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day one

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff and flirting

length : 3.1k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken

a/n: I'm not home this week so I hope this posts correctly from my phone 😬 enjoy the chapter!!

•••

day one

If there was one thing to know about me it was that I was an absolute whore for a breakfast buffet. And the one at this hotel had both a waffle station and a chef to make you omelettes on demand so really, I couldn't be to blame. It was simply unfortunate that I was elbows deep in a plate of chocolate croissants I’d balanced on my table when Noah appeared.

For a singular moment I still had hope that he would not see me or even then, decide to ignore me and enjoy the quiet morning by himself, but after a quick detour to the coffee machine, he confidently took the seat across from me.

“You stuff everything in your mouth with that much vigour?”

Both of us froze in the middle of our movements. From the look in his eyes, I was pretty sure that he was not insinuating what we were both thinking now, the realisation of what his words could mean hitting him only after they’d already been spoken. I was trying so hard not to let my face twist into a grin, or full on laughter, and it was becoming increasingly difficult with every second of horror passing through his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Finally realising that I was very much seeing the humour in his slip-up, he cracked a handsome smile, half-hidden by the hand that was rubbing his face as he groaned. I had half a mind to throw another remark at him, tease him about his faux pas a little further, but my eyes were trained on the back of his hand and the dark flower design inked into the skin.

Carefully reaching for him, I pulled the hand away from his face, lying it palm-down on the table between us between my plate of sweets and his coffee, just to study the tattoo further. Tracing every line on every patel, I committed the design to memory. It was gorgeous and it was perfect on him.

“You got any tattoos?” Noah tried very hard to sound normal, but I heard the huskiness in his voice, one that hadn’t been there before. I hoped it had to do with my touch. It was why I didn’t quite let go of him when I answered.

“A couple,” I mused. “Most of them hidden away though. Had some, quite ridiculous I can say now, ideas about wanting to have the option of a normal job that might not like to see me covered in ink. Although I’m pretty sure that ship’s sailed, so I’m definitely looking to get started on my arms soon.”

“Where’s the ones you have so far?”

He was probably expecting my legs, my shoulders, something easily shown with barely any clothes removal. Something I could let him see right now. He wasn’t entirely wrong. I did have a couple in those spots, too.

“I don’t think I can show you in a public place without becoming a menace.”

Noah’s hand visibly flinched underneath mine and he pulled back, immediately making me miss his warmth. He took a long sip of his coffee and I wondered if it was an attempt to buy some time.

“This was, um,” he coughed in between his words, “a great talk but you’re a fucking flirt and I need a bit more caffeine to deal with you.”

Disappointment flooded my veins as he got up from the table - had I been too much? Said the wrong thing? Come on too strongly? I knew I had vowed to take Lia’s advice at being a little more offensive and letting myself do whatever I was in the mood for, but that didn’t mean it was appreciated. Maybe I should back down. Keep more to myself after all. Not be so damn-

“Find me later?” He asked with a grin as he stopped next to my chair on the way out.

Well. Maybe I didn’t need to change much at all.

•••

I had forgotten how much running around was involved in a job like that. I wasn't complaining really, I did enjoy that it kept me on my toes, but I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I basically dropped Oli off for soundcheck. He'd had several appointments beforehand that I accompanied him to and even when he was busy, he still found time to think of fifteen different things he had forgotten in some place or other and needed immediately, making me cross the arena and the hotel several times more than necessary. He had way too much fun with it too.

Now I finally saw a chance to take a breather, so I grabbed a couple of things from catering (surprisingly good catering actually, Bring Me The Horizon had really moved up in the world it seemed) and went on a hunt for a quiet backstage room. I was fully planning on bunking up in one of Bring Me’s dressing rooms as they should all technically be empty now, but when I walked past a different door, half open, half closed, I couldnt help but stop as I looked inside. Noah was sitting on a couch - well, I said sitting, I really meant he was halfway to sliding down off it, his head collapsed onto the back ledge, eyes closed, looking ridiculously uncomfortable.

I didn’t mean to disturb him. In fact, I didn’t quite know what the plan was at all, but in one split decision, I walked into the room, quietly closing the door behind me and sitting down on the couch next to him. Balancing my stuff on the table, I scooped some of my (honestly deliciously smelling pasta) on a fork and carefully held it under Noah’s nose.

It was like watching a dog sleep that suddenly started dreaming of the very smell that surrounded him in real life. His nose was starting to twitch in the most adorable way, then his breathing changed a little. One by one, his body was waking up, not quite sure yet why, but pulled from his sleep anyway.

His eyes finally opened, a little at first, then more, slightly swollen from the nap had seemingly had taken him by force, as he tried to focus on where we was. Blinking, then blinking again, he finally set sight on the fork in front of him, brows furrowing as he pulled his head back to look at it better in utter confusion.

“What the-”

Noah finally sat up properly, only just now noticing me sitting next to him, amused beyond belief as I finally pushed the fork in my mouth. The pasta was a little cool already, but still surprisingly tasty. Good venues came with good catering apparently.

“Want one?” I asked, scoopin up some more pasta and holding it out to him. Still a little dazed, he simply opened his mouth and let me carefully feed him a portion.

“Didn’t you two meet, like, yesterday?” I looked up in surprise as someone entered the room. Folio, I think his name was, drummer for Bad Omens, currently looking at us with an questioning, but not unkind smile. “What’s with the married couple behaviour?”

“Very funny,” Noah commented, but there wasn’t the usual playfulness in his voice. I instinctively pulled back a little.

Both men exchanged looks I couldn’t quite interpret. I didn’t know either of them well enough to know what they were silently communicating, but I knew there was a conversation happening that I wasn’t part of. The intensity of it was felt in the whole room though. If I was the reason for it, I wanted to never be put in this position again. It even put me off the pasta I’d been shovelling in my mouth with vigour.

Then Folio turned away from him and toward me, once again showing his smile which seemed so out of place for a moment that I wondered if I had purely imagined the unease I had felt before.

“Oli’s looking for you, by the way. Apparently he left his phone in his dressing room.”

“I’d wondered why it was so quiet,” I mumbled with a look toward my own mobile. “Not sure why I thought I could escape him.”

Folio sent me a pitiful look, even though I was sure he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t really complaining. Getting up from the sofa, I cradled my pasta again, determined to finish it one way or another, putting my phone into the pocket of my jeans, when I felt a hand on me.

Noah’s fingers were wrapped around my wrist. He had sat up slightly just to reach me. I both wanted to lean into his touch and pull away, almost overwhelmed by the sensations running through my body with his fingers on my pulse point.

“Are you watching the set later?”

“Yeah, I… Oli said I could watch the show from the sound desk.”

“Good. I hope you enjoy it. I’d say I’ll look for you but I don’t think I can see that far.”

And then he sent me a smile that had my heart soaring and I was once again ready to throw all caution in the wind.

•••

“Are you sure this is okay?”

I carefully slid into a designated spot at the sound desk, giving everyone around me smiles that I hoped would convince them not to hate me for intruding into their workspace.

“Well if you touch anything, we’ll have to burn you at the stake… Other than that, welcome to the sound desk!” The woman next to me cheerfully explained. “Don’t worry, Oli vouched for you, so unless you’re extraordinarily clumsy and manage to undo all our work with the sweep of a hand over our stuff, you’re grand.”

“I’ll try my very best,” I promised. “And if I fuck anything up, take it from Oli’s wages please.”

“Oh, gladly!”

I watched as she went back to work, preparing for the upcoming Bad Omens set, and I couldn’t help but study her a little bit. If I hadn’t known from the AAA pass around her neck and, well, the fact that she seemed to know what she was doing and wasn’t in the process of getting kicked out, I couldn’t have told her from the fans that were starting to crowd around us in the venue.

She hadn’t overdone it by any measure and her face, as far as I could see, was blank of any make-up, but she had dressed the part with ease. Heavy boots accompanied her black shorts perfectly, making her look both tough and delicate somehow, her black top was wrapped in a corset, she was wearing a choker and several earrings. It just made sense. Looking down at myself, I was suddenly less thrilled with my hastily put-on choice of clothing from that morning. A simple pair of dark jeans, a non-descript shirt, no accessories whatsoever.

I didn’t know why I hadn’t made more of an effort. It wasn’t that I thought it was expected of me or necessary in any way, but looking at the sound tech reminded me of how much fun I usually had dressing up. In fact, half of my wardrobe at home was stuffed with elaborate pairs of trousers, laced tops, skater skirts, platform boots. Only I hadn’t really packed any of it.

Pulling out my phone, I shot a text to Lia.

Aubrey

Have I been hiding myself away lately

Lia

context pls

Aubrey

I can’t remember the last time I dressed up and it’s just hit me with everyone in this venue looking so fucking fab

For a moment, I wondered if she was already giving up on messaging me, but when I looked back at my phone, I realised that she was instead recording an audio message. Oh dear. Checking the time, I made sure I would manage to get a good listen before the lights dimmed and Bad Omen’s show began.

“Babe, since you’re finally realising it yourself now, yes, you’ve been letting yourself go. I didn’t want to push you too hard - well, I would have if you’d gotten really bad, you know that but then Oli called so that was off the table. But since… you know, you had that girlfriend and it was all fucked up and your family basically - well, let me just say I’m still available to beat any of them up. The ex and the family. You know that. But yeah. It’s taken a toll on you and you’ve not been yourself lately and it’s been painful to watch. Which is why I’ve been telling you to have some fucking fun on this tour. Put on that dress and that lipstick and get back to being yourself, yeah? And now enjoy the show and give Noah some air kisses from me, love you, bye!”

I felt dumbstruck. Had it really gotten that bad? Had everyone noticed but me? I knew I’d been struggling a bit since my last relationship drama and everything that followed (and technically preceeded) it, but… Lia’s words were ringing in my head. Maybe I had been letting myself go. It wasn’t worryingly bad, surely, but had I been my usual self? I thought I was seeing glimpses of it again now that I was on tour.

Quickly checking the schedule on my phone I realised that after today it was one more gig before a day off between Bournemouth and Birmingham. I shot Oli a message.

Aubrey

I don’t care what kinda disguise you need to go out but you need to take me clothes shopping in two days xoxo

Oli

I’ll get a fake moustache

•••

Bad Omens were a force to behold on stage. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on Noah as much as the distance would allow me to, hanging onto his every word, studying his every movement. It was mesmerising. I’d never had the pleasure of seeing them live before but I already knew I’d make sure to catch them several more times on this tour. There was simply no way around it.

The break was spent chatting to the sound tech whose name I finally learned was Becky. It turned out she was extremely passionate when it came to talking about her craft and I was a willing listener. Nothing she said made a lot of sense so far as she threw all kinds of technical terms at me, but it was fascinating to hear her explain how much of a part she and her team really played in making this an experience, rather than just a live show.

She barely managed to stop talking by the time she was nudged by someone else on her team to notify her of the performance being about to start, which left her busy for the next one hundred minutes and me with too many thoughts and no one to voice them to. So I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I spam-texted Oli all of them for him to find after the show.

Aubrey

Opening with darkside is bold but I love a bold man

Aubrey

I love this setlist so much

I know you showed it to me yesterday but it doesn’t compare

Also the visuals wow

Aubrey

You look very good in red btw and so does your ass

Aubrey

Cause you got a taste noooow drank the kool-aid by the juuuuug

Oh dear I hope everyone’s ok

I’m glad you’re stopping shows liberally these days to make sure

Aubrey

I said it before and I’ll say it again, strangers into diamonds is fucking insane and I don’t know who allowed you to do that

Aubrey

Antiviiiiiiist!! Tell Noah he looks good in that mask

Aubrey

Also why were you getting a headrush after that song hmmm was it performing with Noah do you love him I’d get a headrush to if I screamed with him like that and got to give him two hugs

Aubrey

Yeah the doomed montage is making me cry, fuck you

Aubrey

I hope you have fun whenever you find these messages

I promise I wasn’t drunk when I wrote them just high on live music heyyyy

•••

Walking backstage, I immediately ran into the band leaving the stage. Lee held out his hand for a high five, massive smiles all around from a successful start to the tour, and I wasn’t one to leave him hanging. It ended with everyone who came up behind him following suit on the high fives, until Oli appeared at last, who instead grabbed onto my hand and clumsily twirled me around myself. I was still stumbling over my feet, uncoordinated feet unable to keep up with the sudden movement, when he pulled me into his chest for a hug.

Oli was made of pure adrenaline. I could basically smell it radiating off him. There was laughter in my ear, exhilaration from the first show having gone well, his hands pushing against my back so tightly I had no choice but to melt into him. Any attempt at not touching his bare skin were futile as my fingers slipped under his cropped jacket. He was hot and sweaty, but I didn’t mind one bit. If anything, it awakened something more primal in me. Something that begged to claw at his skin, push him against the nearest wall, have a taste of the droplets running down his chest. I was almost glad when he let me go for fear of what my hands would do if he didn’t.

“I sent you a couple of messages during the set by the way. You can read them as a slightly unhinged bedtime story,” I explained as he nudged me to get a move on toward the dressing rooms.

“Oh I bet those will put me right to sleep,” he laughed.

“Did you actually say that you had a headrush on stage after performing with Noah?”

“Fuck, yeah, my head was fucking spinning, thought I was gonna faint.”

“Was it so stimulating be around him?” I teased, moving to tickle his side, but he quickly dodged me and fell onto the sofa alone. “Does he make your heart race?”

Oli eyed me for a moment, pushing his hair back. I tried my best to ignore how good it looked on him.

“See, you talk about him so much, I can’t tell if you wanna hook up with him or if you want to set me up with him.”

I genuinely didn’t know how to answer that. I didn’t think I quite knew it myself.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

I read your post about not letting kudos and hits upset us. I try to think this way but I'm curious about something else. I've written many fanfics for my fandom and they're all "flop". I don't mind that honestly. But then some writers have written only one fic about the ship I do and and it gets hundreds of kudos. How do some writers achieve that when I'm doing the same and it doesn't get the same response. What else can I do?

I’m afraid I can’t give you a definite answer about what you should do or why this person’s work is more popular, but what I can give you are some advice and, from my experience, some reasons that might explain why other’s works receive more hits and kudos.

start with why other writers’ works are more popular when it’s the same characters, same ship, same fandom. there are various factors at play that might be it;

maybe the person already has large audience base prior to their posting about the fandom you’re in, I know a few authors who already have these sorts of loyal readers that would read any work the authors posted even if they (the readers) were not in that fandom.

maybe someone, anyone, decided share the link to this person’s work on Tumblr or Twitter (X) or any social media platform, and it kind of became viral, thus it drew in lots and lots of readers. it could take just one person, didn’t necessarily have to be the author themself, to share the link among the fandom as a recommendation, or maybe a screenshot of one sentence from the fic that they liked, what happened next is that the replies were filled with people asking for the link.

tags and summary are important factors when people are looking for a fic to read. so maybe this person’s work is tagged with the content people were looking for? maybe their summary grabbed people’s attention or curiosity?

these are just what I can think of over the top of my head.

as for what you can do to gain more readers, I’ve never seen your work so the advice I can give will be a general one; I believe the trick lies in summary, tags as well as the format of one’s work.

when it comes to AO3 (I assume it’s your platform?), tags and summary are the main things people use to determine whether or not they want to click on the fic.

tag your content properly, what characters or pairings it’s about, as well as what the readers will find upon reading your work (you don’t have to spoil it, only the general tags that will give your readers an idea of what they’re in for).

summaries are just as important. there are no “rules” obviously, and I’m not telling you or any writers what to do. though a little advice that I personally take is that you use this little summary section AO3 gives you to do anything to make sure it stands out and that people will see it and want to click on it. that means leave “author’s note” out of the summary section. folks, AO3 summary is the first glimpse into the fic itself that people will see prior to clicking on it, most of the time, people look at the summary to see the author’s writing style and if what’s written, plotwise, grabs their interest. personally, when I see an author use “summary” as a place to write “author’s note”, chances are, I will scroll past that fic as I am interested in what the fic is about, not what the author has to say about their opinion on said fic or their personal life or anything (there’s an author’s note section for that) and if I can’t get a glimpse of what the plot is about or what the author’s writing style is from the summary section, then I won’t click on it, and will look for other fic that can get me interested instead.

moving on to fic format, again, I am not telling anyone what to do here. this is only a suggestion, an advice I’ve learned and want to share: when you write your fic, make sure to use line and paragraph spacing. if your 10k word long fic is one long block of text with no paragraph break, chances are, people will back away from it entirely. also, if it’s two different characters talking with dialogues, don’t put all of their dialogues in one paragraph. for instance, a paragraph for character A’s dialogue, then another separate paragraph for character B’s dialogue and so on.

and I think that’s it for my advice? however, I’ll say this again that the secret to truly enjoying your role as a fanfic writer is that you only focus on yourself. write whatever you want for yourself. it doesn’t matter if this person’s work is more popular, because fanfics and fandoms aren’t a competition. you are your main audience. just have fun creating the stories you want to create for you.

[formula-nyoom]

Stars Racing Past-2

Summary: After managing to escape the phantom on Tatooine, (Y/N), Seb, and Kimi head to Coruscant to meet with the Jedi Council to hopefully allow (Y/N) to become a Jedi and be assigned a teacher.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on the first chapter. I'm really glad people liked it and I can't wait for you guys to read what I've got cooking. While I don't really like taglists, I will have one for this series. I think the max I can tag is 50(ish) people so I will have to cut it off at some point. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

~~~

The ship seemed to remain in one piece as it traveled through lightspeed. And with nothing indicating that the hyperdrive would fail, Kimi switched on the autopilot as he and Seb focused on the girl that was now with them. Now that things were calm, she seemed to be processing everything that just happened as her eyes stared at the light rapidly traveling past the ship

 “(Y/N)...” Seb gently said, drawing the girl’s attention to him. “Can you tell us what happened? Why was this person chasing you?”

 “I don’t know. He had come into the store after closing…he…” The girl trailed off.

“Can you tell us exactly what happened?” Seb quietly asked. (Y/N) took a breath and nodded.

 “I was working on repairing my speeder when I heard Mr (L/N) tell a customer to leave. He mentioned the two of you…I thought you guys had come back to get me or sent someone to come get me. But when I peered in… there was just something about this person that felt wrong.”

 “What did you sense from this person?” Kimi asked.

“Sinister…and dark.” (Y/N) said. “He didn’t feel anything like when you guys had come in earlier.”

 “You said that he killed them…did he kill Mr and Mrs (L/N)?” Seb asked. The girl nodded. Her eyes started to water as the scene of the phantom driving his red lighted blade through their chests replayed in her head. 

 “I ran as soon as he saw me. I jumped on my speeder and took off. I didn’t know where I was going at first, I just knew I had to get far away from this…this phantom.”

 “Lucky you were able to find us then.” Kimi said.

“I don’t think it was luck.” Both Seb and (Y/N) said. Seb looked at the girl perplexed. 

 “What do you mean by that?” He asked

“I..I felt something. I don’t know how to really describe it, but I felt something guiding me in a certain direction. It led me to you guys.”

Seb smiled. 

 “I knew The Force would make our paths cross again.” He said. (Y/N) tried to mirror Seb’s sentiment, but her mind kept going back to the phantom.

“Who…who was that person that chased me. What did he want with me?” (Y/N) asked.

“He was a Sith.” Kimi said. Seb looked at him with concern.

 “Are you sure? The Sith hadn’t been seen in ages.”

“Everything about him screamed Sith, from his lightsaber to the way he fought.” Kimi said. “I don’t think this was a random occurrence.”

 “What do you mean?”

“On a previous mission, I was investigating rumors of potential dark side activity. I didn’t have enough evidence to warrant bringing this matter up to the council. But now I think we should.” Kimi said.

 “What’s a Sith?”(Y/N) asked. 

“Dark side Force users.” Kimi said. (Y/N) still looked confused. Seb kneeled down next to her to be eye level.

 “There are two sides of the Force. There’s the light side that the Jedi use to try and bring peace, and there’s the dark side that the Sith use for conflict and nefarious purposes. Before the age of The High Republic, the Jedi and Sith would fight constantly before most of the Sith were wiped out and hadn’t been seen since.” Seb explained.

 “But it seems like they may be trying to come back or rise to power.” Kimi said.

“What would the Sith want with me?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m…I’m just a slave.”

 “You’re not a slave. You’re so much more than just a person.” Seb said, gently clasping the girl’s hands. “(Y/N)...I believe that you can become an exceptional Jedi. You seem to be well in tune with The Force. I saw you use it in the shop, and you were able to channel it to help you find us. You seem to have a much better grasp on it than any other untrained force sensitive person I’ve come across.”

 The girl was silent for a couple moments.

“Are the stories true? That the Jedi fight for the good of others? Bring peace to the galaxy?” She asked.

 “Yes. The Jedi stand to be guardians of peace and justice. We use the light side of the Force to help protect and fight for others who can’t. And you could be that kind of person…” Seb explained. “But I also don’t want to pressure you into coming with us back to the Jedi Temple.

 “Considering the circumstances, you’re no longer a slave.” Kimi said.

“He’s right. You’re free now to do whatever you want, go wherever you want to go.” Seb said.

 “But that Sith we encountered will still try to come after you.”

“Kimi’s unfortunately right about that too. Whatever the Sith may have wanted with you, it’s not good. You would be safer with us back at The Temple. But again, I leave the decision up to you.” 

(Y/N) looked back towards the flying stars, taking in all that was said. Seb and Kimi were right, she was free. She could make her own choices now.

 “I’ll come with you. I want to train to be a Jedi and fight for those that can’t.” (Y/N) said. Seb smiled.

 “That’s wonderful to hear.” He said. 

(Y/N) smiled. Seb looked like he believed in her. That’s the first time someone has looked at her that way.

 “Don’t get too excited, Seb.” Kimi said. “We still have to meet with The Council about this matter. They may think she’s too old to start training as it goes against The Code.”

Seb didn’t seem deterred by Kimi’s words.

“I have faith that they’ll make the right decision. Besides, we'll have to inform the Council about our encounter with a Sith. I think once they hear about that, they’ll see how important the matter is.” Seb said. 

The time traveling to Coruscant wasn’t long, but it took enough time for (Y/N) to doze off, the events of the past few hours finally catching up to her. When she woke, she was met with blue sky and the sight of city skylines.

 “Have you ever been to a planet like Coruscant?” Seb asked when he noticed the girl was awake. (Y/N) shook her head.

“I’ve lived on Tatooine for most of my life.” She said. 

(Y/N) tried to take in all the new sights as Kimi piloted the SF-16. She watched as other smaller ships flew past various buildings and apartments. There seemed to be so much hustle and bustle in Coruscant. A stark contrast to Tatoonie. Eventually the SF-16 flew towards a giant structure that seemed to stick out compared to everything else in the city. It had various towers while looking very square. (Y/N) could tell that this was The Jedi Temple that Seb and Kimi kept mentioning.

Kimi piloted the ship onto a landing pad and the three began to disembark.

The ship door opened and (Y/N) was hit with a blast of cool air and no humidity as she followed Seb and Kimi off the ship. Now seeing the Temple up close, it was way more imposing with an almost wing-like symbol displayed on banners that hang from the front.

A young man greeted the three of them as they made their way closer to the temple entrance. He wore the same clothes as Seb and Kimi, minus the robe, and had short blonde hair with one long braided strand.

“Master Vettel! You're back! How were the negotiations?” The man said. 

 “We had some complications. Could you alert the Council of our arrival. There are matters we need to discuss with them.” Seb said.

 “Certainly.” The young man said. He turned around and started to hurry off.

(Y/N) followed Seb and Kimi past the entrance and into the temple proper.  Various people greeted Seb and Kimi as they walked past while also giving curious glances towards (Y/N). (Y/N) tried to stick close to Seb, not wanting to draw any attention herself while also trying to take in all her surroundings. The temple was big and open with high arching ceilings and architecture (Y/N) had never seen before. Some of the adults that passed by were accompanied by kids (Y/N)’s age, having the same braid as the young man that greeted them at the entrance. And the atmosphere of everything, it felt the same to (Y/N) as when Seb and Kimi first walked into the repair shop but multiplied by 10.

It felt both safe and suffocating at the same time.

Soon the three of them made it to a set of tall double doors with the same intricate symbol as the ones on the banners. The young man that greeted them when they landed stood in front of the doors and smiled at Seb as they approached. 

 “They’re inside ready to meet you.” He said.

“Thank you Mick. Will you wait out here for me? I need to talk to you about some things regarding your training.” Seb told him. Mick nodded. 

Standing in front of the big doors, (Y/N) suddenly felt very nervous. The idea of having to meet with people only referred to as “The Council” seemed very nerve wracking to the young girl. Seb seemed to notice this as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I just want to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about. The Council may seem intimidating to you at first, but they aren’t.” Seb said. 

 “I was intimidated by them when I first met them.” The young man, Mick, said. He gave (Y/N) a reassuring smile. (Y/N) tried to give one in return but she was pretty sure that nervousness still showed on her face. 

“You can stand by Kimi while I talk with The Council. I don’t think I’ll have to do much convincing to have them allow you to become part of The Order, but they may ask you a couple questions.” He said. “Are you ready?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath to try and steal her nerves. 

 “Yes.” She said, Seb smiled and nodded his head before opening the door. 

The circular room was much smaller than (Y/N) expected it to be. 

Nine chairs were arranged in a circle that took up most of the room. All of the seats except for two had someone sitting in it: Men dressed in the same attire as Seb and Kimi. 

Most of them greeted Seb with a smile but all of them seemed to look at (Y/N) once she stepped into the room. She moved closer to Kimi, almost trying to hide behind him.

“Master Vettel. It’s good to see both you and Master Räikkönen back in one piece. Master Alonso informed us that the negotiations with the Trade Federation didn’t seem to go well.” Master Webber, one of Seb’s fellow councilmen, spoke. Seb nodded his head.

 “You are correct, Master Webber. The Trade Federation was not up for negotiations in the slightest. We tried to have an open discussion with them but after a couple minutes the Leader left the room and me and Kimi were soon swarmed by battle droids. We had to fight our way out of there and during our ship’s retreat, the hyperdrive ended up being damaged, causing us to crash land on Tatooine.” Seb explained.

 “Seems you may have picked something up while on Tatooine.” Master Ricciardo said, glancing behind Seb at (Y/N). He wore a friendly smile, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but try to make herself seem smaller due to nerves.

“We encountered a member of the Sith while on Tatooine.” Kimi said. Some of the men looked at each other with either confusion or concern.

 “The Sith haven't been seen in ages.” Master Bottas said.

“What was a potential Sith doing on Tatooine.” Master Rosberg asked.

 “That was the other matter I wished to discuss with you. I had mentioned to Master Alonso earlier that me and Master Räikkönen believe that we have found The Chosen.” Seb said. He turned around and gestured to (Y/N) to come join him in the center of the room. (Y/N) quietly walked over and stood next to Seb. The tone in the room seemed to shift once (Y/N) stood before them, as if they could sense something she couldn’t. (Y/N) wished she could be as small as possible with all these sets of eyes on her. 

 “What’s your name, young one?” Master Webber asked the girl. 

“(Y/N).”  She quietly said.

“You’re from Tatoonie?” He asked. (Y/N) shook her head. 

 “No. I was sold on Tatooine. I don’t know what planet I'm originally from.”

 “You were a slave?” A different man asked. He had darker skin and wore his hair in braids. The girl nodded.

“(Y/N) said that the trader who sold her only dealt with Force sensitive. That’s a matter I feel we should discuss as well but at a later time." Seb chimed in. 

 “How old are you?” Master Webber asked her.

“11.” That answer caused some of the men to whisper to each other. (Y/N) tried not to think about what Kimi had said earlier about her possibly being too old to join The Order.

 “How old were you when you were sold?” The man with braids asked.( (Y/N) would learn later he’s addressed as Master Hamilton)

“Five.” She told him. Master Webber took in the girl’s appearance, how she stood and how her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt to try and ease her nerves. But (Y/N) felt that he was trying to sense something else.

 “(Y/N), with all that's happened to you in the past hours, you don't seem to be upset about being away from what was your home planet.” He said. (Y/N)’s face seemed to harden at his observation.

 “Tatoonie never felt like home. Neither did the people who owned me.” She said, her voice now at an even and clear volume.

“So you have no attachments to the life that you had on Tatooine?”

(Y/N) didn’t need to think hard about that question. The people she belonged to were dead. She never made any real friends on that planet and besides repairing old speeders, she felt there was nothing to call her back to Tatooine. 

 “No. There’s nothing left for me back on Tatooine.” She said firmly. Master Webber looked to Seb

 “You think she should join the Order.” Master Webber. It didn’t sound like a question, more so like Master Webber already knew Seb’s intentions.

“She’s too old.”Master Rosberg said.  “She hasn’t been taught the proper teachings like every youngling must learn.”

 “I understand that but I’ve seen how she uses The Force and how she’s been able to channel it. I believe if given time, proper training, and a good teacher, she can become a great Jedi.” Seb explained. (Y/N) wanted to smile at Seb’s words, but as she took them in, she also remembered that Seb had referred to as “The Chosen" earlier. (Y/N) wanted to know what he meant by that. It sounded like something with high expectations.

The men broke out into whispers amongst each other as they debated on what decision to make. Seb looked down at (Y/N) and gave her a reassuring smile and her shoulder a gentle squeeze. It comforted her a bit.

“The Council has decided…” Master Webber spoke after a few more moments of hushed whispers. “...that despite her age and considering the circumstances, (Y/N) will be allowed to join The Order and train in the ways of The Jedi.”

Both (Y/N) and Seb seemed to let out a relieved breath.

“Master Räikkönen will be her teacher.” Master Webber said. Kimi cleared his throat, having stayed at the back of the room the whole time.

 “With all due respect, the missions I go on are not fit for a padawan.” He said.

 “I’d be happy to take her on as my padawan.” Seb said.

“You already have a padawan Master Vettel. You can not take on another one.” Master Button said.

 “I believe that Mick is ready to take on the trials to become a Jedi Knight. I’ve trained him for many years and feel he is prepared to handle his own missions.” Seb said. A few of the Council men glanced at each other.

“The Council has seen Padawan Schumacher’s progress. While he has learned and grown over the years with his abilities regarding The Force since becoming your padawan, recent months have cast doubt on if he is ready to become a Knight. Unfortunately we will have to deny your request.” Master Webber said.

 “Not to mention that there are more younger Jedi Knights who are ready to take on padawans. I understand that with you believing that this girl is the Chosen one, that she should have a more experienced teacher, but The Council have not yet seen anything from her that truly proves so. Therefore she will be treated like every new padawan that comes into the Jedi Order.” Master Alonso explained. Seb nodded his head.

 “I understand.” He said, hiding his disappointment inside. “If that is the case…then I believe I may know of a suitable teacher for (Y/N).”

~~~

The sounds of lightsabers clashing echoed throughout the training room as Seb entered. Once the council meeting had ended, Seb had asked Mick to show (Y/N) to what would be her new living quarters while Seb headed to the training room to look for a certain Jedi Knight. One or two people training greeted Seb as he entered, but most were engrossed in the sparring match that was happening in the middle of the room. 

Two young men were engaged in a fierce lightsaber duel. One had dark blonde hair and wielded a blue lightsaber with intensity. His opponent deflected the hits with his own two green lightsabers. They seemed evenly matched, each deflecting hits that came their way. One may suspect that the young man wielding two lightsabers would have the upper hand, but a subtle feint and quick force powered shove from the dark blonde sent the brown haired young man he was fighting down to the ground, dropping one of his sabers. 

“I win this one Charles.” The dark blonde young man said as he held his lightsaber in front, almost as if stopping the brunette from getting up. But the two smiled at each other and the blonde lowered his lightsaber to offer Charles a hand up. Those around that watched the sparring match applauded the two of them. Seb included.

 “Max!” Seb called out. The dark blonde turned and, after giving Charles a pat on the shoulder, walked over to the Jedi Master.

 “Yes, Master Vettel?”

“I know we haven’t spoken about this matter in a while but I wanted to know if you still had your objections about taking on a padawan?”

 “Like I’ve said before Master Vettel, I don’t think it would be fit for me to take on a padawan. I’m-”

 “-not a good teacher. I know, you’ve said that multiple times. However, I’ve just met with the council regarding an important matter.” Seb said. 

 “The Council can’t assign me a padawan. I have to be the one to choose.” Max said.

“I know that, but we think you and her would be a good pairing. You know what it’s like to have high expectations placed upon you.” Seb said. Max gave him a confused look.

 “What do you mean by that exactly?”

“Come with me. I think this matter should be discussed somewhere more private.”

(Y/N) should expect that everything on Coruscant was going to be better than what she had on Tatooine. Yet she was still surprised by the living quarters that Mick showed her. The room had a proper bed with a mattress (Y/N) felt she could sink right into, a window with a view looking out at the Coruscant skyline, and a closet filled with garb like the ones everyone in the temple was wearing. It was all so much more than (Y/N) ever had.

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate in changing from her old, Tatoonie clothing into a fresh set of tunic and pants, throwing her old pair into a trash can without hesitation. The clothes fit perfectly, like they were meant to. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window’s reflection. Her hair was still messy and there was still some dirt and sand left smudged on her face, but everything else she saw looked nice, looked new. 

“This is different.” She thought to herself. “This place feels safe.”

She looked again at her new living quarters. (Y/N) assumed that she was supposed to wait for Seb or someone else to come get her. But after traveling with Seb and Kimi for the past couple hours and having to meet with The Council, (Y/N) finally had some time to herself. And even though (Y/N) could spend hours on end sitting by the window staring at the skyline, there was a whole Temple to explore. And that’s what she was going to do.

~~~

At the moment, (Y/N) had no idea where in the temple she was. Honestly she should have expected this, being in a big and elaborate building she’s never been in before. (Y/N) had managed to find the temple’s library, mess hall, and the same entrance she had entered in with Seb and Kimi. But in trying to find her way back to her living quarters, (Y/N) seemed to have gotten a bit turned around. 

 ‘Maybe if I double back and try and retrace my steps-’

(Y/N)’s thought process was interrupted as she accidentally bumped into the back of someone.

 “Oh, sorry about that.” (Y/N) apologized as the person turned around. It was a boy about her age, with brunette hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t alone, as a blonde boy with blues stood behind. Both of them had the same singular braid in their hair that Mick had.

 “No worries.” The brunette boy said. His voice had the same accent as Master Webber. He looked at (Y/N) with curiosity. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around The Temple before.” The brunette boy said. 

“Oh, yea I’m new...just arrived today.” (Y/N) told him. The boy smiled. 

“I’m Oscar. This is Logan.” The brunette boy held out one of his hands for (Y/N) to shake. (Y/N) shook it and held out her hand for the blonde boy to shake. He hesitated before shaking her hand with one of his gloved ones. 

 “It’s nice to meet you Oscar, Logan. I’m (Y/N)”. She said, “I was trying to explore around but ended up getting a bit lost.”

 “It is a bit hard to find your way around this place when you first get here.” Logan said.

“Well me and Logan were gonna head to the training ground. Maybe we could show you parts of the temple on the way there, if you want to join us.” Oscar said.

 “Sure. That would be great!” (Y/N) said.

Following the two boys, Oscar and Logan showed (Y/N) parts of the temple she had missed, like some of the teaching rooms and outdoor atrium. Just as she was about to follow Oscar and Logan into the training room, someone called her name.

“(Y/N)!” It was Seb, who walked over with someone in tow. (Y/N) waved goodbye to Oscar and Logan before walking over to meet Seb.

“I was wondering where you may have wandered off to.” Seb said. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

The girl standing before Max wasn’t what he expected. Master Vettel had told him how he thought Max would be the perfect fit to train someone who was expected to become a great Jedi, that there was some prophecy involved with the person he was supposed to train. 

 “Max, this is (Y/N), she just arrived today. (Y/N), this is Jedi Knight Max Verstappen.” Seb said, introducing the two. The girl, (Y/N) as Seb introduced her, had started fidgeting with one of her sleeves as soon as she walked over. But she seemed to steel herself and held out a hand for Max to shake. It had smudges of dirt and a bit of dried oil left on it.

 “It’s nice to meet you.” She said. Max shook his hand.

As soon as their fingers touched, Max felt The Force wrap around him, as if it was trying to tell him something. He tried to steel himself, and hone in on the feeling. And he found that it was coming from the girl in front of him. Did the girl feel it too? Max couldn’t tell as she pulled her hand away. He did the same.

 “I was just discussing with Max on how I think he would be a good teacher for you and that you would make a good padawan for him to train.” Seb said to (Y/N). “However the decision does come down to Max, so I thought it would be best for you two to at least meet before any decisions are made.”

Max didn’t think he was the type of person that would be a good teacher, that he wasn’t fit to train a padawan. He’s admitted multiple times that he’d rather spend his time training and going on missions where he could use his lightsaber a plenty than be in the temple teaching a youngling the ways of The Force.

But there’s something about the girl in front of him. Not only with The Force but with just everything about her. Max looked at (Y/N) and saw his younger self staring back.

 “Now Max, you don’t need to make a decision now, but I advise that you and (Y/N) try to get to know each other before-”

 “I'll do it.” Max said, interrupting Seb. Seb looked at Max with surprise.

“Really? “That’s wonderful to hear!” Seb said, now smiling. “Well my previous suggestion still stands that the two of you should get to know each other before you guys start training. I'll leave you to it.”

Seb gave (Y/N) a reassuring pat on her shoulder and a nod to Max before walking away, leaving the pair alone. The two stared at each other.

“So I assume I address you as Master Verstappen?” (Y/N) asked. Max grimaced.

 “Don't call me that. Max is fine.” He said. (Y/N) could now pick up that Max spoke with an accent, one she had never heard before. “Have you eaten at all since you’ve got here?”

(Y/N) shook her head, now realizing how long it had been since she had last eaten.

 “Well I can show you the dining hall and we can talk, “get to know each other” as Master Vettel said. Is that ok?”

 “Yea, sure. I’m starving.”

Through the windows of the dining hall, (Y/N) could see the sun slowly setting on the Coruscant skyline. After putting various food on her tray, (Y/N) followed Max as he led her to a more secluded part of the dining hall.

As she followed though, (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice the various stares or hushed whispers from people as they passed.

 “Is that Verstappen…with a youngling?”

“Verstappen said he would never take on a padawan.”

 “Do you think The Council forced him to take on one?”

Max took a seat at one of the tables tucked into the corner. (Y/N) sat across from him and looked down at her food.  

“Master Vettel told me you lived on Tatooine. I’ve never been to that planet. What’s it like there?” Max asked. While Max was trying to skirt around the unfortunate circumstance the girl was in before she was found by Sebastian and Kimi, Max still wanted to try and get to know the girl. So he thought asking about the planet where (Y/N) grew up would be a safe question to ask.

 “Hot. Sandy. Hot and Sandy is the only way to really describe it.” (Y/N) said with a neutral face as she poked at the food in front of her.

“What was your favorite thing to do there?” Max asked. (Y/N) took a bite of her food and smiled a bit. 

 “Trying to repair an old speeder that someone left behind.” (Y/N) said. “A bunch of races are held almost every month on Tatooine. I was hoping to get it fixed and enter some of the races. Win enough money to get me off the planet.”

 “I prefer racing ships over speeders. A lot more action and opportunity.” Max said. (Y/N) looked at him curiously.

“Is that what I’ll be able to do at some point? Pilot a ship and race it past the stars?” (Y/N) asked. Piloting was something (Y/N) always wanted to learn. Properly. She learned bits and pieces from the pilots that would come into the shop for parts or repairs, but (Y/N) always wanted to learn how to fly a ship. Probably to better her chances of getting off Tattoonie. But (Y/N) no longer had to worry about that.

 “Maybe. What I’m supposed to do is teach you how to harness The Force.” Max said. “But you are my padawan, so I can teach you things The Council may not want you to learn when you’re just starting out.” Max said, giving the girl a slight mischievous grin. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile back. 

After the two had finished eating, Max walked (Y/N) back to her living quarters. Whispers and stares seemed to follow them as they walked and (Y/N) tried to brush it off. 

 “We’ll start your training tomorrow morning.” Max said as they stopped at the door to (Y/N)’s living quarters. “I know it may feel strange sleeping in an unfamiliar place but try to get some proper sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 “Ok. Goodnight.” (Y/N) watched Max walk away. As he passed by a group of younglings with braids in their hairs, they looked at Max with awestruck faces. But he didn’t pay them any attention. (Y/N) remembered what she felt when she and Max first shook hands. Something seemed to pull her towards Max, The Force trying to tell her that something about him was important. She couldn’t help but wonder…who exactly did Seb assign as her teacher?

TAGLIST: @fangirl-dot-com @chasing-liberosis @miarabanana @vicurious28 @mayo-0-o

[valyrfia]

You know what i have kind of being afraid lately that charles and max becomes a bit more distant and cold, because of how much lestappen started to get talked. Because before it was just fans, but now even f1 media uses the lestappen thing a lot

Like that video where they asked max "it seems like you explain things to max a lot"

The RPF curse unfortunately, the more popular the thing becomes, the more it spreads to people who aren't as strict with boundaries about it as they should be (because it gets them engagement!) and the more likely it becomes that someone who should NOT know about the RPF finds out about it.

The comments underneath Max's latest instagram post left me feeling uneasy, to be honest. Far too much "omg Lestappen!" or something along those lines making jokes that I would almost believe were lifted straight from the tag on tumblr. It's disconcerting. All I can do is warn about how I've seen other popular RPF go south in my time which is that people either a. end up trying to play into that content so much that it gets noticed by the people involved or b. conspiracy theorist begin to be incredibly invasive in an attempt to 'prove' that they are into each other/the ship is real etc. etc.

The issue isn't tumblr, it's fandom culture which historically was concentrated on tumblr going mainstream and people who I'm sure ten years ago would've bullied our ilk on whatever playground suddenly using fandom terminology or speaking openly about ao3 and shipping or using ship names in spaces where it's not appropriate. I've seen the complaint with Lestappen that it's full of 'ex-larries trying to do the same shit' when in my experience, it couldn't really be further from the truth. All the people who watched Larry happen either from within the fandom or as an onlooker (as I was) know full well how south RPF can go if you don't put in place strong internal and external boundaries. As a result, we may have some ex-larries or similar among us on tumblr, but in my experience the 'trauma' (for lack of a better word) and hindsight enables us to set down boundaries quite well and keep the RPF on tumblr and ao3. The people who are pushing romantic Lestappen past boundaries are those who have NOT witnessed something like Larry in real time, and indeed may not have had any real fandom experience in their more formative years and as a result have no idea how to interact with fandom etiquette or fandom culture. This applies to fans, but also to social media and media teams as well, who come across fandom terminology, see that it gets interaction, and choose to use it. It is a massive problem, and I'm so afraid to say that at the rate we're going at it's a matter of when Max and Charles discover what we mean by Lestappen, not it.

[thethreeeyed-raven]

saw you wanted people to send you opla zoro requests so I have one for you :)) may I request a opla zoro x fem reader where the reader maybe assumes that zoro and nami have something going on (yk that one scene where they're playing the drinking game and that chemistry they had) so she distances herself from zoro thinking he doesn't like her back when he does? I would really like some good old angst but ending it with fluff. (Maybe Zoro and the reader have an argument) Thank you so much!

serene

navigation | warnings : angst to fluff | a/n : tysm for your req, i enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading! | roronoa zoro playlist | tags : @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @knight-of-flowerss

"Jealousy is not a good look on you."

You whipped your head around to see Usopp looking back at you, flashing a knowing smirk.

"What can I say, I'm an envious person." You shrugged nonchalantly.

Usopp made his way to stand next to you copying your stance of resting on the railing.

"It's not like it will have any affect, they both clearly have their own thing going on." You gestured glumly to Zoro and Nami who stood laughing amongst themselves.

What was she saying that was so funny anyway? You could make Zoro laugh more.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Oh, Usopp.

You sighed and forced your gaze away from Zoro. "It's not that easy."

Though Zoro was a quiet person, that didn't mean he wasn't observant.

He'd noticed you'd been trying to avoid him, which was hard considering you lived on the same ship as him, and were on the same crew.

Zoro left it for a while, deciding not to speak up because he thought it was just a phase you were going through.

He took notice of your lingering looks when he spoke with Nami, but the thought of jealousy never crossed his mind.

Zoro wasn't the only observant member of the crew, Sanji and Nami noticed something was wrong with you.

Nami, Sanji and Zoro sat out on the deck underneath Nami's tiny tangerine trees.

Sanji took a puff of his cigarette before filling the silence. "Don't you think Y/n's been acting weird lately?"

Nami looked up from the map she was reading. "Yeah, I've noticed a little bit of tension." She swiftly looked at Zoro and back at Sanji.

"I saw that look." Zoro said bluntly.

Of course, Nami played dumb. "What look?"

"The one you just gave me."

Sanji huffed and shook his head. "Don't you think we should find out? She's our friend."

Both Zoro and Nami nodded.

Both Sanji and Nami tried so hard to get you to open up by pairing you with Zoro for various activities or jobs.

The plan worked for a while, you and Zoro would sit and chat for hours, only when Nami came would you go back to brooding.

Usopp seemed to catch on to Nami and Sanji's plan and told them of your feelings for Zoro and why you would slump every time Nami was around.

Zoro had his own suspicions of your strange behaviour, and decided he would confront you when the others weren't around.

Sighing, you knelt on the railing, gazing upon the vast blue sea.

"Can't sleep?" A deep voice interrupted the tranquil silence, but it was Zoro, so you didn't mind.

"Hmm, what about you?" You turned so you were facing him.

"Too much drink."

Both of you chuckled and your gaze returned to the horizon.

"I've...noticed" Zoro didn't plan exactly what he would say to you, so go with the flow it is. "You've been avoiding me."

"I haven't-"

"Is the problem with me or is it with Nami? Because every time she comes around, you start acting weird and-"

"Because I'm jealous!"

You didn't want to say anything else, so you let him stood there, just him and the stars to talk to.

Ever since that night, you'd been avoiding Zoro even more, almost as if you were afraid you'd catch the plague from him.

None of the crew knew what to do, and it wouldn't help that Zoro wouldn't explain why your behavior had gotten worse, even though they knew he knew something.

This was a job for Luffy.

Luffy found you on the goat head of the Going Merry, making his way over to sit with you.

"Are you alright?"

You turned with surprise, not expecting Luffy. "oh, hey Cap."

"Expecting someone else?" He gave you a dopey smile, adjusting his straw hat.

You shook your head.

"So, what's up with you?"

You huffed, but you could trust Luffy with everything, why not just admit it?

"I told Zoro I was jealous."

"Of?"

You took a minute to go over the thoughts in your head. "Of him and Nami. They're always laughing together and talking. I mean, me and Zoro would do that, but when he's with Nami it just looks..."

"Different?"

"Yeah..."

Luffy knew why you were jealous. "You should tell him how you feel."

Yeah, maybe you should.

"Hey Zoro." You approached him sheepishly.

His eyes widened just a little before greeting you in return.

"So, I came to apologise."

You took in his appearance before remembering why you were actually there.

"I'm sorry. You deserve to know. I was jealous of you and Nami. You both look so happy together and I wanted to be the one to make you smile and laugh like that. Because, unfortunately for me, I've fallen in love with you. And it's okay if you don't feel the same way, I'll understand and we can go back to our normal lives. But I needed you to know."

Instead of interrupting you, Zoro decided to stand and listen, to let you voice your feelings.

When you finished, you stood and gaped at him. Tears were brimming and your cheeks were aflame.

"I'm not good with words." Zoro admitted just a little embarrassed. "But...maybe my actions could help?"

He grabbed your face gently, caressing the redness of your cheeks with such tender strokes you could've melted.

It was when he pressed his lips to yours that your heart finally felt complete, and the weight of jealousy was lifted from your shoulders.

You both didn't say that you had feelings for the other, the serene kiss voiced everything it needed to.

[rat-rambles]

Ok Alastor shippers of all sorts, I'm going to put in my two cents and before I get into I'm a pro shipper all around just don't be mean to each other and tags are there for a reason.

My credentials: I'm an gray ace, aro person who's been around Fandom a very long time. Personally I've been initiated with the “but al is ace aro so you can't ship him” discourse and first off that's not true both because we can date -I Have a long term Partner- and because I've explored a lot of my queer identity through Fandom and fanfics and I think others should get the chance to do the same. I'm sure a lot of people will learn they’re ace aro because of alastor. That being said ik a lot of you writers out there aren't ace aro and are new to the topic so I'm going to go over some of my personal suggestions of how you could make Canon compliant works. (And if you do any or find any please send to me I'd love to see it)

Oblivious Alastor

Canonically this man doesn't know he's an ace in the hole. And I don't believe an egomaniac like him would assume that there's anything “different” about himself. ik when I was a baby ace I thought everyone was just being dramatic basically before realizing I was the exception. I can see this going 2 ways.

Radiostatic (pre show): vox is obviously completely smitten with al and al sees dating a more powerful overlord as an advantage(which vox in the past was the more powerful of the two). And Al starts getting slowly more and more uncomfortable and vox gets pushy in a very manipulative way.

Radioapple: enemies to friends to lovers? After Al and Luci become close friends, Luci starts to catch feelings for Al and Al agrees to date him seeing as he is fond of him and he's a very powerful ally so why wouldn't Al date him? As the relationship progresses they’re both confused by Alastor's behavior. Luci tries to be respectful. You know maybe he's just very against pda. And al doesnt understand why he's not feeling the things he's meant to.

I can see Al reverse heteronormativity- ing his way into assuming he's gay because he's NOT straight.

Malicious intent

Same as the last one except Al knows he doesn't have feelings for them like that and is trying to be toxic and uses them. IE what if Al was a gold digger actually.

Maybe I am in love?

Al actually thinks that he MUST be feeling a romantic connection because this is the closest he's ever been to someone and once again, gets steadily more confused as he realizes what he and his partner are experiencing is different.

All of these can end in nice queer platonic bliss and I think any story where Al and his partner discover he's ace after establishing the relationship is inherently interesting.

Last note some ace vocabulary

Ace and aro are a spectrum. Typically with ace people they will self identify as either sex positive, sex negative, or sex neutral. With Al it's generally head cannoned that he's sex negative but that's not explicitly Cannon and sex positive and neutral aces are valid.

Sex negative: is self explanatory it's what everyone thinks aces are; I don't want sex ever the idea grosses me out ect.

Sex neutral: is when someone doesn't have the desire for sex but isn't repulsed by it either. If they are in a relationship and their partner wants to have sex they’re open to it but don't expect initiation on their part.

Sex positive: people have a hard time understanding this because it's the seperating of the need for sex from the want. Typically if a sex positive ace were to never have sex again they'd die happy but if they have a willing partner they are happy to participate. It builds intimacy. It feels good, it's nice but it's not the same as being allo and having that cardinal lust.

note: please know what type your head cannoning Al as in your works when writing it, although people of course can change which they feel they align with, it's important to know how he's feeling about it.

I'm not as familiar with aro terminology but like with ace it's more about the drive the need the anguish. Al wouldn’t in cannon crave romantic connection.

Like with ace it's not actually cannon what type of aro he is some aro people are completely repulsed by the idea of romantic relationships or they only like it in theory (which playing around with the idea of Al liking a relationship in theory but not in practice could be a lot of fun.)

The gray romantic umbrella are aro people who can have romantic attraction to some degree. They’re still aro you can head cannon Al as it but please do a little research into which one you think your version of Al would identify with there quite a few so I'll spare the list here.

Demi romantic is when someone can develop romantic attraction for very specific people, very rarely. These people won't be on Bumble but might fall for someone after knowing them for a few years (or an indeterminate amount of time, my timeline was a year and a half I shit you not) a lot of you are looking for that.

As for kink. Lots of queer people especially are into kink because it's intimate, it's physical, it requires trust but it's not actually inherently sexual a lot of the time. And we do know that Al likes torturing and being dominant so yeah he'd be kinky that's completely canon compliant.

At the end of the day Al is ace aro in the show and that's what counts. Have fun be creative, explore the depths of your queer little minds and please be nice to each other.

(and if any of you make works related to this please please please send them to me thanks)

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Seventeen

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

No tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen

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Author's Note: We've got Rhaenyra POV! We've got Aemond POV! We've got a surprise in the end! Thank you for all the support and patience. You're all getting this chapter early since I'm out of town for the weekend! Enjoy!

PLEASE PLEASE subscribe to the series page or my author page so you get updates when we start the next story! You're not going to want to miss it. (And follow @emkald-fic on tumblr if you read here!)

All my love to @vampire-exgirlfriend for her love and support and holding my hand through this chapter that just kept kicking my fucking ass. If you need more Aemond content, you must read, They Say I killed You (Haunt Me Then)! Now complete! (epilogue going up soon!)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Parrying the Daggers Thrown At Us

Rhaenyra receives a letter. Aemond cannot find peace until he gets a taste of it.

Grandfather is still ill, much like we saw him last but he prefers his wheel chaired more oft than not…

Things have been tense, understandably so, but Queen Alicent has been cordial and has made sure we are comfortable and have what we need… 

Aegon and Aemond keep their distance, perhaps so they can glare all the better…

I do not know how to make amends for what happened… 

…and they say Aemond is taken by his pains at times, darkening his room as his head aches from his wound… 

I should make amends, it is right… 

What do you think I should do?...

Heleana has been the warmest… 

…we danced together at the feast and she was quite happy to do so. It is nice spending time with her…

Aegon is happy around Lady Abrogail and she laughs freely with him. He is not like how he used to be as much with her… 

I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased to see how well she is treated…

Many houses were represented at Aegon’s nameday… 

Most seemed to wonder if Aegon would have been named heir and displace you but none came to pass… 

…they will inherit Harrenhal. I can see the wisdom in it as Luke will have Driftmark one day, but I think of Joffrey and Aegitsos and my uncles who do not have lands and holds to occupy them…

I love you much, Muñus, I hope you are well and that I will see you soon…

Rhaenyra ran her fingers over her son’s careful script, her mouth twitching in fondness amidst her worry of her zēapos. His letter was long, too much for a raven’s wings and she started from the beginning once she had read it through once. Twice. Her ribs ached as if Jace had been carved out of her to go on this journey and she shook her head, trying to let the feeling flit away on the breeze. Her eldest had a temper, much as she did in her youth, much as his father had, in the ways that drew her in. Time stole away much, and her own bouts of temper had cooled with each broken toy, each yelling fight, each ‘he pulled my hair!’ and ‘He pushed me and won’t share!’

The sounds of swords clanged in the yard and her gaze flitted from her son’s letter - pages crinkled in her grasp - to the courtyard below where Daemon was testing the new recruits to the Dragonstone guard. His silver hair was twisted back from his face in braids as he preferred, something about war and mindset and always be prepared.

He called something towards Joff and Aegitsos as the knight before him panted, having been bested against her husband.

Baela had not written, that much she knew, though Jace had said that she had found a friend in Helaena after a tense standoff. Rhaenyra had found the mention of it surprising, for her little sister, in the times she’d been around her, had been a quiet thing, eyes large in her face, gaze flitting to everyone and no one.

Helaena has been the warmest…

Helaena was not yet married. The match with Aegon had never come to pass.

The invitation lay on the table before her next to the plate of lemon cake she liked for her morning meal on days such as this.

The wedding of Prince Aegon of House Targaryen and Lady Abrogail Strong of Harrenhal…

In five moons, the spectacle would be held in the Riverlands. In five moons, the realm would look upon her brother once more, peacocked and pulled out, as Daemon sneered, by Otto Hightower to show him off as a contender, to put pressure on her father to change his mind. Her father had nearly twenty years to change his mind and still, he had not. Not even in her absence, cowardly as it sometimes felt to retreat and lick her wounds, had her father’s support of the claim and her family seemed to waver. Try as the Hightowers might to scream and spread slanders that would call for bloodshed, her father still would not be swayed. It was the sense of satisfaction that she had felt when he came to her defense in that shadowed hall those years ago, the heated of curl in it that no matter what, there could be no question as to his choice.

He had chosen her.

Even as the feeling waned over time to give over to those moments where she doubted, all the times he had failed to reign his wife in with her abuses and vitriol, the words her son had sent her bolstered her.

I think Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin would be pleased…

Harwin’s little sister, big blue eyes and red curls bound in braids, peeking curiously over the edge of Lucerys’ cradle next to Jace because ‘She asked if she could see the baby and give him this,’ Harwin had said, as the little girl presented her attempts at embroidering a little dragon on a pillow. Little Abrogail, half Harwin’s, half Alicent’s. She had tried to bring the girl to Dragonstone with them. Would she not be happier away from the court politics with her brother and the quiet? Lord Lyonel had given her a surprised, then hard look, and Rhaenyra had felt chastened in a way her own father had never been able to evoke within her.

“I will keep my daughter with me, and should I send her away, it will be back to her home, at Harrenhal, with her brother.”

Grief washed through her like the crashing of the waves on the rocky shore below and she felt her own jagged edges inside of her. Lyonel Strong had been the best of them, putting the realm first, always by her side at every council meeting she attended, encouraging her, even as his face grew graver with each brunette curled boy she bore.

Violet eyes swept across the parchment again. A servant in the camp had tried to attack the girl, Jace said. Crept into her tent, assuming she would have been alone. Inquiries were being made, but as far as anyone could see, the man had just been a baseborn servant - blending in like no other. Rhaenyra pursed her lips and looked down at the training yard once more, fingers drumming along the stone ledge of the terrace.

She wondered how wrapped around Lady Abrogail’s finger her half-brother might be… and how opportune this moment was.

Alicent’s eldest was marrying and taking a seat in the Riverlands. It was not the bold choice that Rhaenyra had thought would happen. Surely one of the many Lannister girls, or one of the Baratheons - a great house who would be invested in their own daughter becoming queen would have made more sense.

Harrenhal, for the wealth and lands that it had, did not command armies the way the Stormlands did. It did not have endless coffers the way Casterly Rock boasted of. It was a moody fortress on the edge of the God’s Eye, surrounded by lush farmland and woods that were dark and deep and felt that you were somewhere fanciful, somewhere that didn’t hold dragons nor thrones, nothing except for a warm hand wrapped around her own.

The clashing and screaming of steel in the yard below pulled Rhaenyra from her thoughts, and away from the path of her sorrows and regrets. Turning her back to the sight below, she reached for her own parchment and quill, pushing aside the letter from Lord Celtigar.

Lady Abrogail… Good tidings on news of your approaching nuptials…

Aemond pursed his lips, his gaze rising from the book before him, a study on the Conqueror’s approach to the first Dornish war,to squint across the barrel room near the top of the tower that held the library in the Holdfast. He drummed his fingers upon the scarred wooden table, a fingertip running along the crescent burn from the time Abby had accidentally knocked over a candle while they were reading about Harren the Black.

He exhaled slowly, the way the Braavosi manuals advised and looked back at his book.

It had been weeks since his brother’s festivities, and the chill of the end of the growing season had crept in. It was not cold by northern standards, but the air cooled, the rains rolled in for the next several months, and angry storms fell over them  from the Narrow Sea, their winds piercing and frightening, as if they were dragons themselves in the winds that the Storm God rode, threatening to tear apart the Red Keep brick by brick.

Helaena’s nameday had passed with quiet fanfare, the lingering lords of the realm who had not left parading their sons in front of his maiden sister. As if any of them were worthy of a dragonrider, someone as clever and kind as Helaena.

It had been complicated over the past weeks since the talk in the garden, and Aemond still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt. What had been most surprising had been the strange sense of release when his sister let him go, leaving him to sit in the rain before Visenya’s statue, her words ringing in his ears. 

‘I would burn Dorne for you… but I do not want to leave behind a world of ash and bone.’

How desperate Helaena had looked, angry and frightened and full of hope as she begged not to have a husband, but a brother back. ‘How else am I supposed to protect her?' he had wondered. How else could he offer his sister protection and security if it wasn’t to marry her, to tie her to him so that she would never have to fear, never have to doubt her acceptance and those who loved her?

Aegon had not wanted to marry her. She was weird, he’d sneered. How miserable Helaena would be, how miserable they both would have been. Aemond had done the right thing. He’d stepped up, he had gotten Mother and The Tower to break the betrothal. Even if they had not promised him and Helaena to one another, that was alright, it would simply be a matter of time.

He had Vhagar. There could be no further doubt that he was truly a Valyrian. There could be no more doubt as to his place in the world. All that was left was his sister.

Guilt gnawed deep in his stomach, shame twisting around his throat when the thought filtered through. Helaena was not a bauble he needed to collect to prove something. Collecting her was not protecting her. Collecting her was not about her, but for him, and it was this knowledge that he had thought about constantly.

His sister deserved more than being a broodmare, to be a pawn in the games. The forced distance the last few weeks had given him, after Helaena pushed him from the proverbial nest, had left him unsettled and snappish.

The loud thud of a book hitting the stone floor reverberated through the room. A heavy tome, judging from the heft of the sound, followed by a soft giggling, a deeper snickering sound chasing after it before they muffled and fell quiet.

He knew, with the utmost certainty, why it had fallen quiet.

Ever since the betrothal, the grip on his best friend had been slipping. Oh, him and Abrogail were an unlikely pair, but few appreciated books and history as his cousin did. While digging in the dirt and helping Helaena catalog her collection had been fulfilling, there was something joyous in being able to have someone who understood the quiet and sanctity of the library, and who loved books and reading and learning as he did. Lyonel Strong had always indulged his questions when was young - far more enthralling than Mellos and Orwyle were, and he had fostered that curiosity in his daughter.

‘All she’s going to care about is making babies with Aegon!’ Helaena had cried, frustrated and angry when they’d been alone after the fight in the brothel. 

There was a soft cry, and Aemond scowled at his book before his chair scraped across the stone floor and he strode purposefully towards the source of the sound. The histories of the Riverlands were there - not just observational books, but the census, the trade information, things used by the small council’s not-quite-so-small army of clerks and counters and lawmakers. The section of the library that Abby had frequented since the announcement and that he had helped her with.

“Not here,” came the whispered whine, laced with laughter. Aemond rolled his eye as he turned the corner of the aisle. It was shadowed somewhat this far down, The strategically polished silver angled to bounce the light around so as not to pose a fire risk among the precious books, although the day was gray and cloudy and the light reflected was that of a lamp. Abby was pressed against the bookshelves, the blue and silver brocade of her skirts rucked up with her stockings on display, her legs at present, wrapped around his stupid brother’s waist. One arm was stretched out to grab onto the bookshelf behind her, and the fallen book that had been in its place was still on the ground. Aegon’s face was buried into her chest, or maybe her throat? 

He was half-blind, after all, sometimes details could be mercifully missed. Or ignored.

“This,” Aemond said, his voice even and dripping with every ounce of annoyance and betrayal he felt, “is the library, not a brothel.”

Aemond’s fists clenched at the disrespect both of them displayed to a place they knew  was important to him. At the announcement of his presence, Abby squeaked, Aegon’s arms tightening around her as she scrambled to lower herself without sending them both toppling. He held his arms folded behind his back, his hand scraping along his elbow as the pair of them got themselves in order and he shook his head when Aegon looked at him, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Abby had turned to straighten her gown.

“Are you really going to act like this?” Aegon said, for it was barely a question. “We weren’t in front of you and your book. You were the one seeking us out.”

“Because you both weren’t as quiet as you thought you were,” Aemond snapped. “It was distracting.”

A lazy smirk crossed across his brother’s flushed face and he wanted to punch him square in his stupid nose. Let him kiss his future wife with his face bashed in. “Well, my lady is distracting-.” There was a soft sound as Abby smacked Aegon’s shoulder, cutting him off with an exaggerated ow, the flinch was nowhere near the violent response that inhabited his brother when it was their mother doing the hitting. She peered around Aegon’s shoulder, her mouth just as swollen, her cheeks just as flushed and her features apologetic.

“We’re sorry, Aemond. Things just got out of hand. I shouldn’t have-”

“Don’t you apologize,” Aegon interrupted her this time, a fierce look on his face. 

“No, actually,” Aemond cut in, taking a step forward, using the few inches he now had on his brother to straighten his shoulders. “She’s right. Thank you, Abby, for apologizing. Are you upset that she has to apologize for you, since your self-awareness is worse than a billy goat ramming his head into things?”

Aegon’s mouth gaped in offense, his flush deepening. There was a bruise along his neck that was going to be difficult to hide. The glib nature of his eldest brother was a trial at the best of times, but this? “You know this isn’t your place to run about as you please. Shall I just unlock my doors, let you roll around in my sheets and over my personal things while you’re at it?”

“It’s the fucking library, Aemond. It doesn’t belong to you-”

Abby let out a startled cry as Aemond’s fist shot out, but as much as he would love to punch his brother, he shoved him instead, feeling the crackling of frustration, the rumble of Vhagar in his chest.  “Because it’s all yours, is that it? You mewling fucking kitten. This isn’t just my library, it’s hers too, but you don’t fucking care about anything that means something to anyone else if it gets in the way of what your limp cock wants.”

“Aemond, truly, we’re sorry - Aegon, no!” Abby’s voice was lost in Aegon’s growl as his brother came back with another shove, sending him back a few steps. Aemond laughed, a hint of a sound like the thin scrape of wind whistling through a crack. Yes, yes let the idiot push him around. Let him continue to pull his friend away from him, from him and Helaena both. His gaze darted briefly to the redhead, blue eyes wide as she pressed herself back against the shelves, before meeting his brother’s lighter gaze.

“You are a glib fucking fool, Aegon,” Aemond said lowly, his mouth curling as he readied for a fight, needing to expend the burn of flame inside of him. “I don’t care what the pair of you do, I’ll say nothing should Mother hear of it, but-” he stepped forward and shoved Aegon hard into the bookstack. The ancient wood creaked and groaned, but the stacks were bolted to the floor to prevent them from topping. A few books fell from the force of Aegon’s frame smacking into it. “Stay the hell out of my library.”

He did not look over his shoulder, even as Abby called his name, apology rife in her tone. He strode through the halls, calling for his horse to be saddled while he went to angrily pull on his riding leathers. The left side of his temple ached as it was wont to do when his face was full of tension. Helaena would make him tea, protect him in the quiet, but that was not meant to be today. The last he saw, his sister was in the gardens with Jacaerys. 

How he ached to wring the stupid bastard’s neck.

How bright he seemed to make Helaena laugh.

How betrayed Aemond felt by it all.

Why hadn’t Helaena said anything? Why hadn’t she told him that she didn’t want to be married? Why had she just let him wander around like a puppy and now left the fool?

‘But hadn’t she told you?’ a little voice drifted through Aemond’s mind and he paused in the lacing of his leathers. Had she not told him by pursuing that fool Warren Fossoway, and the time that he had spied her kissing him - for he had seen Helaena push the squire behind the carved dragon pillar by the gardens. 

‘But she would let me kiss her, she would kiss me, and she’d touch me and I her and-’ The flurry of thoughts ached as he pulled on his boots.

It would not hurt as much if it was anyone but Jacaerys.

The ride to the beach beneath the shadow of the Red Keep was a blur. The rock outcropping of Aegon’s High Hill was a craggy, sheer thing, but the beach below was one that Vhagar enjoyed sunning herself, a guard dog laying at the foot of the bed in a way. Her head lifted as Aemond approached, lowing in greeting and shaking sand from her scales. The tension in Aemond’s chest began to ease at the sight of her, and he approached, patting a gloved hand along her scarred neck, scratching along a vicious scar she must have received in Dorne. There were no words exchanged, not the way Aegon chattered with Sunfyre. Aemond’s bond with Vhagar was one of feeling, of such deep understanding that no words needed to spill from him. In no time, he scaled her great bulk and yelled out the command to fly, which his dragon responded with her own, what he assumed was excited, call in return.

Vhagar landed on the cliffs on the western side of Massey’s Hook, the bay below dotted with smaller fishing boats this far out from King’s Landing and away from the bustle of the capital. Rage and grief, anger and fear were a tempest in his gut and he rankled at the call of Moondancer as his cousin circled above them.

If Baela wanted this fight, then he would meet her, unflinching. Let her see what dragons were made of. They did not all reside on Dragonstone.

“Laodijes peldios!” Baela howled at him, her voice a sharp shout on the breeze, her face twisted and ugly with fury, fists at her side as she readied herself to hit him should he get within reach.

Aemond glared at her, the distance between them shrunk now to an arm length. Vhagar was a great shadow behind him and he could feel the sulfuric heat of her breath as she exhaled buffeting at his back. Moondancer was a little ways away, shrieking fearfully and Aemond could not tell if the dragon reflected her rider’s mood, or her fear of Vhagar.

“You’re a fucking fool. Daemon Targaryen is your father, your mother a Velaryon, and you still don’t realize that a dragon cannot be stolen.”

“You had no fucking right!” Baela snarled. “Vhagar was for Rhaena to claim-”

“If Vhagar had not wanted me, she would have eaten me and you damn well know it.” Aemond cut her off, watching her jaw click shut with a curl of satisfaction. “Vhagar chose me, not your sister. What? You want to kill me to give her another chance at claiming her? Is that what you’re here? To finish the job that you all started?”

“Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?” Balea cried, and this time, there was a choked quality to her rage. Aemond’s eye widened slightly and he leaned back from her, a curl of uncertainty that he despised. His words had been harsh, full of the anger that he had felt simmering these past years. Aemond shrugged it off. He had earned his harshness in this. He’d been the one attacked, the band of them setting upon him simply because he chose to claim his right as a Valyrian prince.

‘Why would my mother’s dragon choose you?’

Aemond ran his tongue over his teeth and leaned back on his foot, watching Baela gasp for air amidst her choking sobs, and turn from him to look out to the bay, towards Driftmark and High Tide.

He remembered his mother’s cries, her rage, her such careful and elegant control snapping as her voice cracked in the silence of the Hall of Nine.

“He’s your son, Viserys.”

“Why did Moondancer choose you?” Aemond asked. “Why did Moondancer choose you, and my egg never hatched?” Baela did not look at him but he could see the way her shoulders tensed. “Why didn’t you go find the guards? Why did you come, thinking a thief had stolen a dragon and Jacaerys brought his blade? Why did they give me a pig, pretending they had found me a dragon as they both had their own? Why did they do nothing but terrorize me with that fact for our childhoods?” 

Aegon had done it too, gone in on the fun, drunk on being the eldest. It had lessened considerably in the wake of Rhaenyra leaving the capital, even if his brother sought other ways to tease him - he’d never again mentioned his lack of dragon.

Aegon had come to him in his sick bed, his curls shorn, red eyed and puffy faced, tears on his cheeks, had knelt at his bedside and vowed to him. 

“We protect our own and I did not protect you. I do not care if you’ve claimed Vhagar, for I was not there for you when you needed me. It will never happen again. I will protect you. I will be by your side.”

Aemond had sometimes wondered how much of the words were his brother’s own, but he had known, with certainty, that the feelings were genuine. His brother was an idiot, and they butted heads, but his brother loved him in his own way, and for as angry as Aegon could make him, he loved him too. In his own way. 

He might admit that on his deathbed, unlike Aegon, who would only need to be in the depths of his cups and into the sad and tearful mourning edge.

“What do you know, Baela?” Aemond said, his voice even, coldness creeping along the edges. “Of fighting and scraping for everything that is owed to you?” He forcefully bit his tongue, copper exploding in his mouth as he broke skin, to keep from pressing further at the loss of her birth right to Driftmark for Rhaenyra’s folly.

“A prince has to scrape for all that is owed to him.” It was rhetorical, biting, and Aemond snorted, taking a step forward, his own gaze looking out at the water.

“You may have been an idiot child, but don’t play me for a fool.” It was impossible not to see how little Viserys thought of his second family, and he had seen it plainly on Jacaerys’ face, the surprise in witnessing it. “I’m sure your father relishes every word you send to him. His little spy.”

Baela’s lip curled in a snarl and she stalked closer. Aemond stayed where he was, watching her with a narrowed eye as Vhagar let out a low growl behind him. She did not move, did not lift her head, but her nostrils flared and Aemond felt the heat of her breath swirl around him. Baela’s eyes widened, and she paused, the indigo of them shining with tears. 

He turned his head slightly to look at Vhagar. “Ȳgha iksi,” he reassured her, feeling Vhagar’s displeasure seeping through him, her warning and the remembered rage from those years ago when she could not protect him or take away his pain. He reached for her snout, pressing his hand to the scar above her left nostril, rubbing against it. He turned his back to his cousin and brought his other hand up, feeling the anger hot as coals, hot as dragonfire in his chest. Vhagar was full of tension. He could feel it. Would she feel that way if it wasn’t him? If she was not so worried for him, would she recognize the girl behind him as the child that Laena Velaryon surely brought to her, as Aemond would have brought his own child? Had his grandfather, Baelon, brought his sons to this dragon before them?

The silence filled the air around them, the wind thick with tension. Aemond pressed his forehead to Vhagar, took strength from her, squeezed his eye shut and ignored the pain that lanced through his head and pulsed behind his scar.

The sob behind him was soft, and Moondancer’s cry was mournful.

“He’s your son, Viserys.”

“I did not mean to tarnish your mother’s memory,” Aemond finally spoke, his voice carrying as he looked, blind side towards Baela. “It was not done to hurt you, or to take something from you. It was… It was my only chance. And it’s something I don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand. I am… I am sorry about the loss of your mother. I did not have the opportunity to give you my condolences then, but I can give them to you now.”

The sound Baela made was strangled. Aemond turned to look at her. Baela was stiff beneath her red and black riding leathers, the metal rings in her hair tinkling as the wind tugged at her braids. He recalled the mourning child she had been sitting by her twin and Jace, the vicious yell she’d let out when she punched him in the nose that night, the howls and scream of pain. He felt Vhagar twitch and groan beneath his touch, another warning and he hushed her again, stroking her snout. He watched her gaze go towards Moondancer, who was crying fitfully, grounded still, her aquamarine wings more green against the lush grass of the clifftop.

“Do you want to pet her?”

Baela stared at him, the hostile lines to her face instantly slacking in surprise. “Skoro syt?” Her voice was small and wary, even as her eyes were wide with grief.

“My condolences,” Aemond repeated, and he found the words genuine. It was not Baela, nor her sister, or even his bastard nephews that rankled him. Oh, he wanted his revenge, He wanted what was due, but more of the blame lay with his eldest sister and their father. Of that, Aemond was secure in. He would gladly feed them both to Vhagar, to take an eye as payment for his mother.

His cousin shifted on her booted feet before whatever compelled her brought her forward. Aemond shifted, beckoning her to take her place by his side as he murmured words to Vhagar. Baela had taken her glove off, her slim, tanned hand reaching tentatively up before resting along the scar on Vhagar’s nostril.

They stood there for how long, Aemond was not sure, quietly beside one another as Baela grieved for the mother at the bottom of the Narrow Sea, and his own grief at what was taken from him.

“Do not mourn me, mother…”

‘But mourn the boy dead on Driftmark.’

It was not lightness or peace that settled over Aemond when he and his cousin parted later. He was not certain how much time had passed, only that after she had sobbed, they sat there in a strange, companionable silence eating hunks of bread and cheese and apple that Baela cut with a wicked blade. She did not give him thanks, she did not say anything, but Aemond took the offering of shared food as her own gesture of whatever truce was settled between them. The exchanged curt nods before parting, Baela northeast and away from the city to what Aemond assumed was High Tide and her grandmother and twin, while he circled back towards the city.

Aemond was not certain of the feeling he held except that it felt like he had scratched something out on a list, or deposited a burden that he was trying to carry with all his other, more cumbersome burdens. It was a closed door. That was enough for Aemond, and there was a part of him that wanted to march to his sisters and tell them that he had made nice, to have Abby’s warm smile proud with him, and Helaena’s little clap and promptly being the receiver of her latest mountain spider that Uncle Rodrik had brought her.

Instead, after entering the inner courtyard of the Red Keep and handing off his horse to one of the stablehands, he made his way to the gardens and to his own preferred solitude when the library - so recently desecrated - was not an option. No, Aemond needed air, he needed the statue of Visenya to look down upon him. There, where Helaena had snipped the strings and released him from the vow he had made, the goal that held him that was more about him than it truly was about her. 

Where his sister had set him free, and he loved her all the more for it.

The problem, he found, upon striding down the paved path and through the dripping ivy, was that his garden was not, in fact, as empty as he hoped. Wylla Karstark was kneeled in front of a bush of hyacinths, carefully cutting the purple blooms and placing them in a basket beside her. She was clad in a dove gray dress, the black fabric of her kirtle beneath poking out through slashes along her shoulders and puffed at her elbows. Her fox features were pinched in concentration and Aemond watched her for a moment, silent as she had clearly not heard his approach.

Wylla Karstark was an unknown. She was pretty enough, with a long nose and sharp jaw, gray eyes that flashed when she was annoyed, which was the majority of the time. She had a rather frustrating talent of being able to look down at him even as she had to arch her neck, for she was as petite as Abby was. Their joint misfortune, just like Aegon’s. She was also well read, their conversation at the feast turning from a mutual annoyance to discussing the book of poetry that he had seen her reading, which itself had turned into a rather long and in depth conversation on the Valyrian poet, Praxilla, whose work had survived by the grace of her living the life of leisure in Lys when the Doom happened. Wylla and his elder brother unknowingly shared a fondness for drinking songs penned by the scribe, although Aemond was smart enough to know he shouldn’t bring that up.

Not until he needed to.

“It is polite to speak when coming upon someone, Your Grace,” Wylla’s northern burr was arch as she focused on her task. “I would curtsy, but you can see I’m already on my knees.”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed at the turn of her words, and he was not certain if she understood how they could be taken. He decided that she didn’t, for she did not turn to look at him, seemingly unbothered. All for the best, he supposed, for Aemond did not think he could meet her gaze should she be facing him.

“Why are you cutting my flowers?”

“Your flowers, Your Grace?” Wylla laughed, a sharp, lilting sort of sound and he wondered if that’s what she sounded like when she sang. Did she sing? He had not asked her. “These flowers belong to Queen Visenya, for it is her garden, is it not?”

“It is my garden,” he pushed back, frowning at the back of her head, the mass of thick, twisted black braids kept in place with a woven, pearl hair net with wicked looking, pearl tipped hair pins to keep the heaviness of it in place. He flexed his hands, wiping them on his riding leathers as he approached. There were other flowers in her basket, like wisteria and some of the roses from the main garden. He sat, bending his one leg to rest an arm on while the other reached in.

Up close, he could see the red flush to her pale cheeks. He did not recall them looking so red when he saw her the day before, outside of the bit of sun all the girls had gotten during the sun.

Her smack was quick, the sound of flesh stinging flesh loud and he immediately pulled back with a hiss and a glare. “How dare-”

“Those aren’t for you,” Wylla said forcefully, the gray eyes of her bright in her face as she finally looked at him. “They’re for Lady Abrogail.”

Aemond had killed a man for the fox-faced woman before him without hesitation, and the knowledge of it settled in him still, generally buried over the past few weeks because he had no idea what to do about it. They’d been attacked in the night, and Wylla Karstark had shoved a knife between the man’s ribs without hesitation. So tall, Wylla Karstark seemed, so loud, filling up the spaces she was in without holding herself back, that he had so often forgotten how small she was.

Until she was there, in front of him, those gray eyes like the storm ridden ocean.

Aemond held her gaze, reaching back into the basket to pluck one of the deep purple, nearly blue anemones that she had gathered, twirling it idly between his long fingers before reaching up to tuck it behind her ear. Wylla was still beside him, her red painted mouth parted slightly, so he could see the flash of her white teeth behind it. Her cheeks deepend in their red to match the paint on her lips and Aemon hummed. 

Abby had been understandably shaken. Knowing her as long as he did, even with the smiles affixed to her face, he knew the signs as intimately as he understood Helaena’s or Aegon’s, or his own mother’s. Wylla Karstark was a mystery. She had been quiet, from what he had seen, but the wedding preparations had taken up much time with the girls, as well as her brother finally leaving the capital earlier that week.

He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking, before he met her gaze. “Are you alright?”

Her inhale was loud. It trembled and she pressed her red lips together, her throat bobbing with a swallow and looked back at the flowers but did not move to cut anymore. Aemond did not push her, but only waited.

“Yes? No? Strangely yes,” she finally whispered. “I think that’s what bothers me more.”

“That bastard came in with intent to harm,” Aemond said. “If you didn’t kill him, someone else would have. You were incredibly brave.” None knew  where he’d come from. The assailant had been clad in the same red garb as the rest of the servants. A baseborn man. Waters or Storm, Aemond couldn’t remember, much like he had no memory of the man’s face before he stared down at it, red and wheezing before he killed him.

“At least it wasn’t Aegon,” Wylla whispered, her eyes wide, drawing his attention back to her. “What would have that turned into - him sneaking in for them to slobber all over each other. Me thinking he was an attacker and-”

The snort of laughter that escaped Aemond at the idea of it all could not be held back. He bent his head, gasping for air as his shoulders shook and it was only a moment before Wylla’s own peel of laughter joined his. It had been some weeks since he’d laughed, in the wake of what happened at the hunt drying up what little humor he’d indulged in. There was an infectious quality to Wylla Karstark’s amusement that he found comforting. Aemond looked at her, her face flushed from her laughter, and he leaned in, kissing her.

The laughter abruptly stopped, her mouth soft against his, still from her clear surprise. She tasted like oranges. Abby must have indulged in the sweet and sour orange cakes they had at the feast. Wylla did not respond, but she didn’t move away either and Aemond took that as acceptance, and he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, thumb swiping softly against the apple of it. Kisses with Helaena had been different - always expected, always ready, with her initiating many of them. The one time he’d kissed Abby, when they were little and Jace had dared him to, did not count. The both of them had made faces, vowing to never do it again. 

Kissing Wylla, though? He never wanted to stop, especially not when she reached up, the clippers making a soft thump along the grass to wrap around the end of the braid slung over his shoulder. She tugged it gently and Aemond broke away, blinking and gasping. “What?” he asked. “Should I have not done that?”

“Oh, you should have,” she reassured him, breathless and red faced. She licked her lips and looked at her fingers still wound around his braid, toying with the leather tie. “I was just reminded of something someone told me once.”

He cocked his head, mouth pursed. “What was it?”

The smile that cut across Wylla’s face was amused, the scar along the top of her lip giving a mischievous bend to her small, red mouth. “It was about how dragons purr when you pull their hair.”

Whatever thought started to coalesce about her late night conversation with his sisters was pushed right out when her lips found his.

I would love to hear your thoughts! Even if it's just a keyboard smash! Reblog to spread a story around so others may find it! I would love to hear your theories! What did you love? What are you looking forward to? Happy to have you here as always <3

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