#so now im posting this entirely to reblog it with the fic link

[scarletphoenix15]

Hear me out here, instead of "Boa meets Nami and hates her leading to them fighting over Luffy," we have "Nami meets Boa and immediately bags her, leading to Luffy experiencing romantic jealousy for the first time in his life because that's his navigator."

[surly-sara]

hii im just wondering why you suddenly decided to not post here again and only at ao3, is there any specific reason (like hate speech or smth) that made you do that?

you dont have to answer it if you dont want to❤️

now that it's been a week i can like articulate this without hating myself. this likely doesn't make any sense, but i was posting on here on my main blog that i've had for like 10 years, and it feels very personal and hard to separate myself from the fic i share even though this blog is still essentially anonymous and only a few people know me IRL. but this has always been a source of anxiety for me. and the more i posted and interacted with people, the more i worried about all these peoples' feelings and how they would receive the fic or what I write. like, i could write some batshit stuff that's super toxic and unhealthy but fun for me to think about in fiction, but then i don't because i am worried about people being able to just send hate at me directly to my personal bog lol. tumblr is the only social media i use, so any time i went to check drafts or notifications, i couldn't help but see trending notifs about the latest fic or follower count, and i want to use tumblr to enjoy lads without also comparing myself to other people or worrying about how well the fic is being received just because i want to also look at pretty pictures of sylus and caleb or all the other shit i like to look at on tumblr.

then i had this strange experience where someone saw that i had posted caleb fic, and decided to complain about me not updating sylus fic in two months? when like, if i were a commercial writer people would have to wait a year or more for a sequel since the sylus series is already novel-length and i wrote it in the span of three months lol. more than 200k words of sylus in 4 months, if you include the oneshots. this person also sort of complained about the oneshots, like, they're great but not the same as the series. and i put a lot of love into the oneshots, but okay. so i was hoping to see people who were interested in caleb react to the caleb fic, but the first comment i got was a complaint about me abandoning sylus and letting readers down, when i'm already worried about that, and i'm a sensitive snowflake, so i kind of just decided okay, i need to put all the fic in one place and remove it from myself in a way that it doesn't take up so much space in my head or life. my first thought, actually, because i'm a petty cunt like sylus's mc, was seeing if there was a way from preventing this person from seeing my fic at all, and when i realized there wasn't, my next thought was removing it from the internet entirely, but i'm not crazy enough to hurt other readers just because one person is an entitled asshole. So my compromise was to just post any new fic i write on ao3 because that removes the option of seeing the numbers its doing on tumblr when i just want to see if mutuals have reblogged something else from me with funny tags, etc. if people send hate to ao3, well, it's not my personal social media blog lol. if they are really fired up, they can easily link the fic to my tumblr and still send hate here, but for some reason this just feels safer. the lies we tell ourselves lol.

it's all very silly, because i'm a very silly person. people have been kind and have both overwhelmingly shown support and validated my feelings, but i still feel like, in a world where we're on a fast track to fascist dictatorships and already in ongoing genocides and ethnic cleansing and i have my own family to spend mental energy on, i don't want to allow my hobby to be a source of stress for me. anyway, thank you for getting this far, and i'm sorry for the inconvenience about having to go to ao3 with an account to read my updates. i read and try to respond to every single comment people leave (with varying degrees of timeliness), but i understand if people abandon my writing because of it!

[speakofthedebbie]

ASK GAMES IN SESSION:

nothing to hide asks

nosy asks

ask the blogger

moots on anon (debs original; moots go on anon, say a few things about them [usually 3] and i have to guess who they are)

fic writers: directors cut

some things of varying importance (<- my fav colour btw)

came for one. singular. fucking. post by @elsa-fogen, stayed for the hazbin brainrot

names debbie (read about why here), nicknames are any variation that suits you

she/they (soft launching those prns cuz im not 100% sure. also might be a demigirl?? and here i thought i was safe from the gender questioning 😔 /lh)

after much deliberation (thx for your insight @lifea16 <3) im a femme-leaning biromantic and sex-indifferent quoisexual cuz i dont fucking know T-T

in a qpr with @lifea16 >:3

minor (not saying majors [literally why arent 18+ called that] cant interact, but watch yourself)

in regards to above: ♐ (december 14th) [have had 1 bday on tumblr]

no comm beggars/any asks relating to money. i am a minor, i cannot help you

#1 luci lover/defender

also #1 akito lover/defender (my little loser ginger <3)

started shipping radioapple as a joke but it becomes less of a joke each day (while i am now radioapple inclined, i am still a multishipper at heart)

priestess of @cali-and-chaos' radioapple cult (@manicali has deleted the blog but i will go on carrying out my duties as priestess and spread the word of radioapple far and wide)

almost certainly some flavour of neurodivergent

transphobes dont even look at this blog. me and my trans besties WILL beat you up and it WILL be embarrassing

same goes for racists, bigots and the like. do not test me

fandoms:

currently:

hazbin hotel (wow who wouldve thunk it)

project SEKAI: COLORFUL STAGE! (feat. hatsune miku) [i have finally gotten the game and i get why my friend loves it sm its great {other than the fact that my gacha pulls are absolutely ass} my high key crush on akito has only gotten stronger 😍]

helluva boss (somewhat)

namesake (they get linked cuz the chances of anybody who follows me knowing what it is are slim) [you prolly wont see much content about it {for now >:)} but i do really love it and warrick is my pookie]

previously:

mystreet (may return when s7 comes out)

hermitcraft (im way too behind to catch up now)

percy jackson & the olympians (left off on titans curse)

murder drones (now that its done might come back to)

the promised neverland (i still like it, but i finished the manga)

heathers: the musical (i debated moving it down here but i dont care for it much anymore lol. like i still like the musical, i still really like the songs, and will probably make it my mission to memorize the entire thing one day but its impact is fading man)

unique tags:

#debs is a yapper (i talk about shit. usually hazbin shit. intersects way too much with-)

#debs is a memer (i make memes. usually hellaverse memes. intersects way too much with #debs is a yapper.)

#debs is an artist (i make art occasionally. so far 100% hazbin art.)

#debs is a writer (i post my hellaverse fics. either wip snippets or links to the ao3 page. previously under #debs is an artist.)

#debs is a responder (i respond to the [semi!]rare ask or two [used to be #debs is an answerer but it sounded too weird lol])

#debs is an original poster (i make original posts. opposite of-)

#debs is a reblogger (i reblog usually hellaverse shit, which for my apprehensiveness about it at first has become [more than] half my blog. opposite of #debs is an original poster.)

#debbie's never ending rivalry with her own fucking brain (i wage psychological warfare against my own brain. no one wins.)

#"for your queueing has just begun~" (i queue posts.)

look at the top 10 posts yourself lol

individual follower shout-out (hasnt been updated in a WHILE mb chat)

oh yeah i got a sideblog lol (high school advice)

also luci-centric sideblog lol im so predictable

[yinyuedijun]

i read pt.2 of tokyo vice bc someone else reblogged it (didnt know there was a pt.1) and like the entire time i was like damn! this is some sensual ass smut! this is so good! this is PEAK!!! and this is.... familiar? but i was like hmm im shocked i've never come across this before and then i went to your blog and it hit me– ITS YOU!!!!! *points accusatory finger* THE FUCKASS DAN HENG WRITER WHO LITERALLY HAD ME REREADING a SINGLE FIC 40 TIMES!!!! im not sure why i hadn't followed you but just wanted to tell you this funny incident! and that your writing is insanely good (i was sat, okay. my adhd ass brain actually focused) and hope you have a good day :D

SCREAMSFDBDKDNSN @ "FUCKASS DAN HENG WRITER" sorry that's like the funniest way someone's ever referred to me in my fic writing career algmfjakfjsks . but yes. IT IS I. the no.1 fuckass danheng writer on the site 😎 that's honestly such a funny coincidence that a suo fic is how you found me again LMAO (and crazier that my writing felt familiar to you!!!!)

also thank you for reading tokyo vice - I'm glad you enjoyed it !!! I'm never confident in my smut writing so I'm glad u found it landed well hahaha. I'm also shocked it was readable without context and I'm EXTRA SHOCKED BC I JUST REALISED I NEVER LINKED TO THE FIRST PART IN MY POST???? 😰 I have to go fix that right now

thank you again for this ask!!! and thank you for giving me a laugh 🫶

[stupidcanofpeaches]

Omg hi! I didn't know you had a tumble, I'm extending my hand to let you know your fic has singlehandedly uprooted my entire discord server. It's killing us. We have had multiple crying circles by now over it. But also to show off this piece that my lovely friend, Magpie, did of your fic, if you haven't seen it.

Thank you for your fanfic! It's beautiful and it makes me sob like a baby.

hi!! yeah i sure do have a tumblr lol though usually i don't post fics here

honored to know that my fic is capable of inducing this kind of reaction! im a little bit evil and enjoy making people cry. out of uhhh happiness of course. definitely. glad you enjoy the fic, i love writing it! torturing curly is pretty cathartic, ngl.

and yeah ive seen the art!! its absolutely gorgeous, ive reblogged it before and you better believe it will be linked in the fic itself as soon as i finish the next chapter. its a fantastic piece and i love it with all my heart. magpie is so cool!!

[chronicler-of-narrative]

Rejoice, Warframe fans, for I have returned (aka finally thought of what I wanna post), and this time I bring you yet another Warframe oc

Ok, so im actually doing this because I managed to finish a chapter of a fic of mine where he's properly introduced, so I figured I'd introduce him here too, as well as take the time to ask whether or not you'd want me to post that fic to my blog (as my previous attempts have been...rather unsuccessful).

But in any case, let us set that aside for now and focus on the oc himself: Lavius (and ???)

To start off, allow me to showcase him in all his splendor in two different forms.

Firstly, his "cannon accurate" form, made in game (and slightly changed in the two years i have had this image/him as an oc, however the changes are only minute and thus I can't be bothered to fiddle around in captura when I already have the older images)

And Secondly, a sort of reimagined form, illustrated by the wonderful @goldenboikuvasauce

Now, with his looks done, let us move onto Lavius's personality.

Many words can be used to describe Lavius, but chief among them include Pretentious, Pompous, Extremely Violent and Short-Tempered.

Whether he's serving his Executor master (another oc who serves as a side character and thus shall only be mentioned as Aeidon, the Executor with four arms), or the Empire as a whole, Lavius stands as both Guardian (of the elite) and Executioner (of the lowly). He cares not what horrors he will commit in the name of his Golden Lords, in fact, they oftentimes underestimate how far he takes his butchery. Be it by freezing an entire rebelling town into a ghastly ice sculpture exhibit or by performing public executions of even the highest-ranking Dax (on his own accord), he will do everything to both keep his Gods in power while simultaneously quenching his ravenous bloodlust. A true symbol of Orokin oppression.

Though, the keen among you have noticed that despite my usual preference for more humanoid ocs, be they Tenno or otherwise, that Lavius here is a warframe (specifically a Frost Prime). This is where we set up the main mystery of Lavius: How is he sentient? And moreover, how does he keep his booming, pretentious voice despite being made of infested matter?

While you will have to tune in and see, I can provide a little hint: It is said that those who have managed to defy Lavius's aggression and fight back managed to witness something akin to an...apparatition. A child, manifesting alongside the supposedly self-suficient frame, appearing in tandom with Lavius's unaided movement. Every time it has been glimpsed, the apparition only appears for a second or two, using some form of void devilry to disorient or stagger the warframe's foe, just enough time to eliminate any advantage said foe may have had. Stranger still, those who have glimpsed this child claim it is nothing like the frame which it aids: In contrast to Lavius's violent tendencies and horrible attitude, the child appears to be calm, collected, and silent, appearing more like a living statue than any Tenno, completely devoid of any emotion behind its serious expression.

And yea, that's about all of the basic info you need for Lavius and his mysterious companion. Feel free to stop reading here, but should you hunger for more, I do have a small question to ask of you, dear reader:

Ill leave the poll up for a day, however if you're seeing this after the poll has completed, you can always leave your answer in a reply or reblog.

In any case, thank you for reading and I wish you a great day!

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Hello! I just found your blog and I'm so excited to read the fics that you have listed!

Im trying to get better at being proud of my own work so I'd like to submit the rottmnt fanfic that I have been working on for a bit.

Now, when you say to tag you for a major update, does that mean every chapter if the work is in progress? Or like every 5 chapters? I don't want to be annoying or give you an excessive amount of extra work [which I guess is counter-productive as I'm still actively working on this fic]

Anyway here's the link to my fic Remember Forever. It has an OC but it's not ocxcanon, the entire fic is purely platonic/familial. I hope you like it!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46110742/chapters/116077018

Hello UncannyAlien!! Its wonderful to meet you!! I'm incredibly thrilled that you've found some fics to read on my little list!!

I think its wonderful that you're being actively proud of your work, that's often a hard thing to do. Keep up the amazing work!! ^^

Though I didn't realize that I hadn't been clear enough concerning my rules pertaining to OC's and their roles in stories. So I went and updated the rules in the main masterpost to help clear things up (update post found here).

I don't rate OC x Canon fics, nor do I rate fics where the OC acts an an MC. I'm ok with OC's being side characters, or background characters, but I don't rate fics where the OC is an MC (Main Character) of the story.

Now, don't let this get you down!!! Your fic is amazing (regardless or not if I've read it) and deserves all the praise and love!! So keep on writing, and keep on going strong!! Each authors story is special!! ^^

As for tagging for major fic updates, I went along, and updated the main masterpost for that as well, in hopes of clearing it up! The update can be found on the masterpost, or on this post.

To anyone who has a fanfic in my list, if you've got an event or a big update pertaining to your fanfic posted on your blog (i.e, art contests, hiatus, huge life updates that impact the fanfic, fic updates after a year of silence), tag me! Tag me, and I'll reblog it, advertise it, promote it, and all the good things!!

I made a list of things that count as major updates (and things similar to these would count) to clarify!!

Lastly, I'd just like to say, your art style is really cute!! I love the vibrancy and happiness you've captured in the picture!! ^^

I hope you have a great day!!

[clearbun]

look at that, I'm capable of making a half decent pinned post!

artist, writer, and crafter (with too little time in the day for anything)

we absolutely love getting asks and dms, we don't bite! we just have extreme anxiety that makes replying a little harder than it is for most people <3 patience means a lot

main fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist, Persona 5, Danganronpa (especially SDR2), Ace Attorney, One Piece (still watching pre-timeskip I'll catch up one day 🙏), and lots of other things that I don't want to spam space with, if you've seen us rb stuff related to it we're probably brainrotting over it at some point!

Links:

@and-im-fine writing blog! I post bits of wips here, and eventually links to finished fics too <3

@living-avarice other writing blog specifically for my Greed Lives AU longfic

Greed Character Playlist: YouTube Music / Spotify I add to it every so often and have lots of fun with it so you should go listen <3

we use the tag #dol-talks for most of our general talky posts, "#my art" for our art, and #vent-ish for vents and complaining

system related info under cut:

We're The Aerie, a fictive-heavy DID system! chances are if we've shown that we're into something, we've probably split an alter from it at some point (aka the "I know we joke about having the entire cast of fullmetal alchemist in here, but we really don't need to keep splitting guys from there whenever we're stressed it's ok" system)

some of the alters you might see around:

🪙 Greed (he/him, old because. homunculus. but maturity wise around my 30s probably): the host with the most, that's me! <333 I love talking to people so much and need attention to survive pretty please send me things it makes me so happy <3 I'm the one who runs the writing blogs! I love making content about my source so much <3 oh you can also call me Dol, it's both a "normal" alt name for me and our general name right now (but if you don't specify you're talking to me I'll assume you're talking to us as a whole)

🦾 Ed (he/him, late teens): co-host! bit of a mixed source because I fused with a fragment from the last host at some point (Greed note: he wasn't fronting at all before I started typing his thing, he didn't trust me to do it LMAO)

🤍 Kim (he/she, 34): ex-persecutor, part time gatekeeper, full time diseased

🃏 Ren (he/him, 19): caretaker for our littles and teens, he has a hard time using words and normally talks with emojis and pictures! he absolutely loves people

🖍️ (little): not including her name for now, but we reblog things with #🖍️ when they're meant for her! if you send us things you think she might like you'd win gold stars in so many peoples books

...and more! we'll at least use emoji signoffs if not names too if it's someone specific talking and they want to identify themself <3 feel free to send asks for anyone you see unless they specifically say they don't want it!

[thatuselesshuman]

Im bored why not answer these

I started reading around 6 years ago and started writing 2-3 years ago

Mostly a writer at this point, but I still read

The entire NWAACO series by endoftheworldhere

One for Sorrow, A Study in Geometric Shapes, and The Rust Between our Telephone Polls

I can't stand crack fics. I'm fine with humor, but crack fics make me cringe

I scroll through the fandom tabs on Ao3

I prefer long but mostly read short

I like the post most of the time, but always forget to reblog

@endoftheworldhere & idk any more

I love Kanej and joongdok. They're 99% of the fanfiction I read

Uhhhhh I stare at the fic until something sticks

Plastic Silks and Faces is my favorite fic title, and my least favorite fic I've written lmaoo

Kinda

Kinda? They would get a migraine looking at my 'planning'. Would end up in the hospital

My favorite is my most recent fic, Sorrow's Victor

I do, and I once pulled an all nighter researching the history of landmines

I used to sit there for hours, but now I write so late that I go to bed directly after lol

Oh 100%

Hit post and run, but if I spot too many glaring mistakes afterwards I'll fix them

I get to word vomit my fantasies online for people to go "hey that's not terrible!"

Writer's block

Yes. I'll take fic requests for any fandom I'm in, as long as I don't despise the character

A character being able to be their true self with only one or two people

A/B/O. No hate, but it's not my thing

Yes! It's not letting me link up tho

Life. My roommates especially

I mostly just slap them lol I'm a chronic spoiler EXCEPT when it comes to me killing a beloved character

I'm chill with negative comments and all that but I'm terrible at keeping deadlines

Nope. I hope to in the future though!

Naaa my current WIP is ass

I love Jem. He's a long time character of mine, so it would be hard for the audience to sway it lol

Meh. May do this later

Multi-chapter

I write a lot of terrible things, but I haven't experienced 99% of it. They probably view me as some sadistic asshole ���

I'm a lot more creative now, and I'm online a lot more, but other than that? Hasn't changed much

Nope! My slate is clean so far

Uhhh it's on the way y'all. It may be terrible, but I have to get it out if I want to move on so 🤷

I'd say like a 7

I can write without an outline

We'll use Sorrow's Victor: I rewatched the Hunger Games and wanted to use my oc

A Wish From a Star

Idk 🤷

Someone commented my writing

I don't really have anything to rant abt at the moment

Feel free to ask anything!

Fic Writer Ask Game:

I am bored and I cannot sleep, so I made this! Anyone who also writes fic is totally welcome to reblog this and ask their followers! Anyone is definitely welcome to ask me stuff, but I made this for anyone to use!

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

22. Do take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

44. Rant about something writing related.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

[froggeultra]

Appeal to disgust fallacy is fascist ideology I can only assume you’re a crypto terf

hi im not entirely sure what post you're talking about here so could you link me to it so i can delete it and block its op? ive never heard of it before and it being a dog whistle (before googling it just now) and am happy to delete it.

if this is about the AITA incest fic reblog then. im deleting it anyway but i tend to think incest fanfic (about what was probably mcyt characters going by the replies) is most likely not a healthy coping method and not great to write fanfic about but yes, it is was a bit of a bitch move for the asker to out someone's hidden side posting account. i should have taken that more into account instead of immediately overlooking everything else because my gut reaction was "incest bad." for the record though, i thought about that post for as long as it took to read it and think "i'd probably have done the same thing" and click a vote button.

if you'd like to have an actual conversation about this then feel free to dm me. if you come into my askbox again with something this presumptive and with as little context im blocking you (i might just block you either way). i can understand not wanting to dm me about something that can read on first glance as defending incest but you've GOTTA give me a little more info on what you're talking about before you conclude im a terf/fascist.

im turning off anonymous asks after this. i feel like i get more bad than good out of it and i have in my blog desc that id rather have people dm me about this kind of stuff.

[drawnaghht]

Gonna be honest, aside from fandom events/celebrations I'm prob not gonna be very active here again, on account of busy-in-general but also, my side-accounts are still always more art-oriented.... I like to post my own arts hehe x3 so I guess I'm writing abt this as a gentle reminder to myself that it's alright to not be active & how much I really enjoy posting my own work when possible.

some more thoughts on this under cut! the blog will stay mostly usagi chronicles related with reblogs related to other usagi stuff and tmnt but I will try to keep it to my own art as I originally intended.

right now I've also been obsessing again over the Tintin fancomics and animations by @/professorcalculusstanaccount (not gonna tag them bc this is not directly related) and their work (+ just ruminating on my own old stuff) has been inspiring me enough that I'm thinking of returning to my og comics again. just in a... very subtle way. i don't like drawing attention to myself as much(as much as I should at least) and I wanna take a lot of babysteps to get back to building those up again.

for my SRTUC/TMNT2003&ROTTMNT crossover fic, I am thinking now that I want to take a similar approach in that it is mostly images, some larger text. bc I realized I do not actually enjoy writing long spans of prose. like. I enjoy making comics bc I am more used to those, but also, I am imagining things much more visually so it is hard for me to put some of these into text form at all times. I think that's why I probably haven't written this fic properly or finished any of my old fic. So a pretty normal "I explain my fic/AU idea" post, but I would like to try it in a concentrated way. I dunno how I would format this crossover on AO3 for example, but here in tumblr I could put them neatly under a cut and write away. It would be cool if I had the energy for animations/comics too bc those, while taking more time than writing, are far more enjoyable on the whole to make (but again, I am much more used to them)

I also want to explore more of a genfic (general "genre" fanfic) look at crossovers. As much as I like the Yuinardo/Leochi (Yuichi x Leo) ship, I also really enjoy exploring more unusual dynamics and situations in fanfic haha x3

my health's been slowly declining this week again and i haven't noticed next to work so I'll try to keep phone and personal internet time to a minimum now. sjdnddj i also just haven't had the energy for new art in general, so I'm basically going into spring hibernation until the next big spike in free time.

but hey! things I look forward to posting about more are some of the short comic thumbs I've been doing! I've fanart mostly for usagi chronicles right now but I'm also probably gonna post other short sketches I've done on my regular fandom art/ sketchblog, @aghhtdraws . There's a Chi/Ki (Chizu x Kitsune) doodle post I wanted to do and also a few other Usagi sketches I wanted to post.

I also like to write analysis of shows I like often enough, but writing is usually very taxing for me if it gets too long so I try to avoid it unless I have a very strong idea. Wait... have I been writing essays this entire time??? x3

I'll still tag those as #analysis bc that makes sense for me as a short tag and I don't really keep to an essay format as much, but yeah, you can block that or #aghhtposts if u don't wanna see those xP

i tag things more for my own convenience, but that is also very useful for tag blocking! (so glad xKit still works 10 years after it broke or smth)

oh! and I also wanted to post some screenshots/links from insta. both Stan and some of the crew have been posting new posts about SRTUC which have been a delight to see. ahhh im so glad the show exists and the crew seem to have a lot of good memories about it.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep? [Chapter 6: You Are In Battle]

Aemond is a fearless, enigmatic prince and the most renowned dragonrider of the Greens. You are a daughter of House Mormont and a lady-in-waiting to Princess Helaena. You can’t ignore each other, even though you probably should. In fact, you might have found a love worth killing for.

A/N: Hi all!! Thank you so much for your friendship, encouragement, emotional ranting, humor, compliments, questions, and love throughout this fic’s short lifetime. You better believe that EVERY! SINGLE! reblog/tag/ask/comment/etc I receive lights up my life like dragonfire. I also wanted to let you know in advance that the last 2 chapters of this fic will have a LOT going on, so it might take me a little longer than usual to get them published. I appreciate your patience! Hopefully they will be worth the wait. 💜

Song inspiration: “Do I Wanna Know?” by Arctic Monkeys.

Chapter warnings: Language, violence, some sexual content, witchcraft (per usual), drama at brunch, Axel being a sore loser, Larys being a snake, Helaena being prophetic, Aegon being Aegon, time skips, childbirth, dragons, extreme fluff, extreme angst, y’all know I cannot help myself I am an angst monster and I will not apologize!!!

Word count: 7.1k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @crispmarshmallow @tclegane @daddysfavoritesexkitten @poohxlove @imagine-all-the-imagines @nsainmoonchild @skythighs @bratfleck @thesadvampire @yor72 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @loverandqueenofdragons @omgsuperstarg @endless-ineffabilities @devynsshitposts @vencuyot @ladylannisterxo @ariesbabycitlaly @cranberryjulce @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @liathelioness @mirandastuckinthe80s @haezen @fairaardirascenarios @darkened-writer @weepingfashionwritingplaid @signyvenetia @abrielleholland @crossingallmine @burningcoffeetimetravel @yummycastiel @lol-im-done @lovemissyhoneybee @nomugglesallowed @witchmoon @yoshiplushie @torchbearerkyle @sweetashoneyhoney @quartzs-posts @lauraneedstochill @nctma15 @queenofshinigamis @rapoficeandfire @hinata7346 @curiouser-an-curiouser​@meadowofsinfulthoughts @imjustboredso @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @myspotofcraziness @bregarc @mikariell95 @doingfondue

💜 Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! (Also I’m sincerely sorry if Tumblr refuses to tag you!!!) 💜

He must be in agony, but he doesn’t show it; and hasn’t that been true all his life?

He declines offers of milk of the poppy. His right arm has been set—the bone snapped back into place with a wet, jolting click—and now the maester is sewing the wound closed. This serrated scar will join all the others he carries, scars of the flesh, scars of the soul. You sit to Aemond’s left, on his blind side, only so he can drape his arm around the back of your chair while the other is being repaired. There is a strange, hushed tranquility that has settled over you both here in Aemond’s chambers. He wears a ghost of a smile, soft yet victorious. No one can take you away from him now. No one can untangle all the strings that bind you together. With a damp cloth, you clean the viscous half-dried blood from his nose, his mouth, his cheeks, his forehead. His face is already bruising, mottled with shades of violet and blue. You remove his eyepatch so you can—with the most careful hands—wipe the crimson from the mangled remnants of his eyelid. He is perfectly at ease as you do this. He entrusts himself entirely to you.

“This is a gruesome task, princess,” the maester says as he stitches, and it takes you a moment to realize he is speaking to you. He is the first person to call you princess, but that’s what you are now; you are openly and legally married to a prince. “You need not subject yourself to such unpleasantness, especially in your…condition.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I can manage. My place is here.”

“She is a Mormont by birth, Maester Ordwulf,” Aemond says. Pride radiates from his voice like heat from a dragon’s scales. “She does not hide herself away from grisly things.”

There is a thunder of footsteps outside. Axel Hightower bursts through the door. He is red-faced and panting. You and Aemond look at him, but you do not rise, and you don’t say anything either. You do not grant him the dignity of a greeting. The silence is thick and laden and awkward. The maester pauses, then resumes his stitching.

“You will regret this,” Axel tells Aemond.

“You have lost, Lord Hightower. Go back to the Reach and do not return unless you find yourself in need of having your head separated from your body.”

“It is you who has lost,” Axel rages. “The great houses of Westeros will not forgive this slight. You will have to crawl on your knees begging them to support you in what comes next.” And of course, you know what he means, everybody does: the war against Rhaenyra and Daemon, the war of succession. It is the uneasy, swelling background music of every courtyard sparring match, every feast, every marriage negotiation, every piece of purred gossip, every candle lit in the sept. “You have damaged the Greens irreparably with your selfish, short-sighted lust, your notorious pride. You have ruined your family. You have signed your own death sentence.”

“Hm.” Aemond chuckles, low and contemptuous. He lifts your hand and kisses the back of it.

“But I will do you a courtesy,” Axel says. He steps closer. “I will make my offer one final time. Give her back to me of your own volition, and I will take her to Oldtown and never speak of this ugliness again. Then you will be free to marry someone who will be an asset when the time for armies and battles comes.”

“She is an asset.”

“She is a nobody!” Axel shouts, and he touches you. It is not malicious, it is not painful, it is not even especially intrusive; he simply rests a palm on your shoulder. Instantly, Aemond is on his feet. By the time his upended chair clatters against the floor, he has Axel pinned to the wall: his left hand closed around Axel’s throat, the right holding the point of your dagger to his throbbing jugular. The blade is still coated with Ivar Kellington’s blood. Axel, wheezing and croaking, gropes for the hilt of his own sword.

“Go on, do it,” Aemond seethes, his blue eye blazing maniacally, his sapphire gleaming. He is grinning. Blood drips from his swollen, half-stitched arm. The needle swings from the length of thread like a man from a noose. “Do it, Lord Hightower. Draw your sword. Give me an excuse to bury you. I have already killed one man today. I’d be happy to double that number.”

“Please…” Axel chokes out, flailing.

The prince’s grin widens. “Do it.”

“Aemond!” Otto Hightower roars as he strides through the doorway. Aemond steps back and twirls your dagger before tucking it away into his belt.

“Come fetch your kinsman, Grandsire. If you want him to live.”

“Go,” Otto commands Axel, shoving him. “Your reason to be in King’s Landing has expired. Leave immediately, before I lose interest in protecting you.”

Axel points at Aemond. “It is you who has lost,” he says again—darkly, ominously—and then storms out of the room. The prince returns to his seat so the maester can finish stitching his arm.

Otto sighs and rubs his forehead. “Aemond…” And for the second time in the span of a few short moments, a man speaks the truth about your lineage. “She is a nobody,” Otto says, almost apologetically, like he wishes he could change it.

“I have met my match in her. I will have no other.”

“This is supremely unwise.”

“It cannot be undone.”

Otto frowns at him. “You are lucky that Alicent has another son for us to barter with.”

“Lucky?” Aemond says, incredulous, furious, though he keeps his arm still for the maester. “You are lucky that I have brought to your side Vhagar, and swordsmanship, and wit, and this excruciatingly heavy, inborn burden of duty that Aegon so obviously lacks. I have never asked you for anything. I have never sought to build a future for myself that diverges from the ambitions of this family. This is the one thing I must have for myself. She is my restitution. She is a gift from the gods.”

“So there is no point in trying to negotiate with you.”

“No. None.”

“Very well.” Otto Hightower casts you a glare—dismissive, indignant—and departs.

As the maester mends Aemond’s arm, you dab at the streaks of blood drying on his temples, his jawline, his palms that are crisscrossed with lines of fortune. You can feel your throat tightening, scalding tears brimming up in your eyes. They escape down your cheeks when you try to blink them away. “I’m sorry that I’ve caused you so much suffering.”

“No, no,” Aemond murmurs. He whisks your tears away with his left thumb. It is rough and calloused, expert, practiced, precise. “You have not caused it. You have cured it.”

The maester applies plaster to the prince’s right forearm to keep it immobilized until the break heals. Aemond gives you a knowing glance, and you nod; tonight he will bathe in water cloudy with leaves of foxglove and sorrel and mint, ground cinnamon, crumbled snakeskin, crushed bloodstone, swirls of glittering clear quartz, pungent black tar rum, and blood taken from a living bull…courtesy of Sir Criston Cole. When the maester’s work is finished and he takes his leave, Aemond locks the door behind him. Then he stands in front of you wearing a hungry, mischievous smirk that tells you exactly what he wants.

“You must be in terrible pain,” you say.

“Oh yes. And desperately in need of a distraction.”

You grab his belt and pull him towards you. He drops to his knees and burrows under the layers of your bloodstained moonstone gown as you laugh wildly, and then gasp, and then writhe and moan as your fingers snag in his hair. You start in the chair, and then move to the bed; you start light and frivolous and giggling and then turn somber, intense. It is a reunion that in an only slightly different world would never have happened. You’ve both tasted the possibility of losing each other; you’ve both tasted the salt of spilled tears and sweat and blood. It is a long time before Aemond gets his fill of you. He tumbles headfirst into sleep with his hand resting on your belly; exhausted and satisfied, whole, you gaze up at the ceiling and wonder how it is possible to be so fortunate.

Aemond is still dozing when night falls, and you slink away quietly so he can rest. Beneath the heart tree, you light a blue candle, pulverize the dry ingredients, and mix them into a pitcher containing the rum and still-warm bull’s blood. Again, there is that intangible, menacing sensation of being watched. Again, you cannot find any proof of an eavesdropper. You do not mention this to Aemond. There is no sense in worrying him. You have afflicted him with enough worries already.

You tell the servants to prepare a hot bath and they listen, bowing low and addressing you as princess. As your husband soaks and steam fills the room, you sit on the rim of the tub and braid his long silver hair, tell him stories of your childhood on Bear Island, watch the violet-indigo bruises evaporate from his skin like puddles of rain beneath the sun.

“I’ll have to get an egg,” he says distantly, as if half-asleep. The bathwater that engulfs him is a sea of shimmering red. “A dragon egg. The most perfect egg there is.”

You are mystified. “Why?”

He smiles at you, a dreamy, content smile. “For the baby.”

When he wakes in the morning, his pain has vanished.

Within a month, and to the court’s amazement, his arm is completely healed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Larys is waiting when Queen Alicent retires to her chambers for the evening. He lives in the shadows like a nocturnal animal, a bat or a shadowcat or an owl with its talons hooked to a twisted branch. He collects secrets the way some people collect seashells from the shore, pieces of lives fragmented and in a million different colors. This particular secret is one that can benefit the queen greatly. Aemond’s bride has been a princess for several months now, and yet still the court yammers noxiously about her. They mock her family, her bloodline, Bear Island. They think her arrogant to have climbed so high above her station. They call her Lady Mormont and pretend it is an accident, just an old habit, just a harmless reflex. They claim she conceived a child too quickly for it to have happened within wedlock. They gossip about her “true” husband Axel Hightower, who is shamed and miserable in Oldtown; he has tried in vain to procure a replacement wife, only to be turned down again and again out of concern that the union would be deemed bigamy by half the realm. All in all, the marriage is considered quite the oddity, quite the failure. Alicent does not have the heart to deny her child—her favorite child—this woman who has brought him such happiness; but if circumstances transpired that compelled the removal of the much-maligned princess, surely Alicent would be relieved, would be…indebted to whoever had orchestrated it.

The queen has just come from visiting her husband. She smells of death and decay. Her eyes are rheumy. Her shoulders hang low and limply, as if they are broken. The room is illuminated only by the sickly ochre glow of candlelight. The way the flames dance across her skin is magnificent, tempting. Larys wonders if in a different world he could have been her husband. He wonders how sweet it must taste to own something so beautiful.

“Oh,” Alicent says when she spots him, and that’s all. She clutches at herself with her own arms; they wrap around her like a constricting snake. She stares at him, too depleted to be wary. Around her neck hangs a large, golden, seven-pointed star.

Larys will not give away everything he knows at once; he never does. He will bait her with the who and the what, but he will save the details—those essential steps of the how—until payment has been made. Some men deal in money or gems or land or power. Larys’ preferred currency is flesh. “I have discovered concerning information about someone very close to you.”

Alicent sighs. “Not now, Lord Larys.”

“But—”

“Not now,” she insists. “Please, just…just…” Tears begin to slither from her eyes. She holds up one hand as if barring an intruder. Her voice is a threadbare, shaky whimper. “Just leave me. Please.”

Larys bows. “As you wish.”

He disguises his panic and frustration in the same way he once disguised his lust for her. Now there is no need for masquerading; that particular secret is one that he unveiled long ago. He skulks through the hallways of the Red Keep and ponders the heart tree, a tower built by gods instead of men: the moon-white bark, the blood-red leaves, the mournful face carved into the trunk, the roots dotted with traces of candlewax. He examines it each day and keeps meticulous notes. He lurks in the shadows most nights in case the princess makes an appearance. He compiles evidence like a raven constructing a nest of stolen twigs, piece by piece by piece.

Have patience, he tells himself. The time will come very soon. Soon, soon, soon.

~~~~~~~~~~

You are beginning to show. Your gowns have high, generous waistlines and plenty of room for letting out as the weeks rolls by like waves, like wheels. The gardens of the Red Keep hum with bees and dragonflies and swooping, ungainly beetles. Butterflies like airborne jewels—rubies, emeralds, diamonds, turquoises, amethysts, opals, sapphires, moonstones—flutter before landing on leaves or blossoms. Some even land on Princess Helaena.

“Ah!” she sighs elatedly as she acquires another one; it clings to her hand like a living ring. “Look, Grandsire, look.”

Otto Hightower beams as he slices his ham. “Wonderful, my dear.”

“How far along are you now, darling?” Alicent asks you, nibbling on a strawberry muffin. Sir Criston Cole sits beside her and dutifully passes the queen butter or sugar or tea whenever she requires it. He looks at her in a way that makes you think of septons marveling at statues of the Mother or the Warrior or the Smith, gods they can speak to as often as they like but never meet. There is something hopeless and yet worshipful about it. There is something sacred.

“Four months,” Aemond answers before you can. You are between him and Helaena, on Aemond’s good side, the side where he can easily see you. He touches you often, almost absentmindedly—resting his arm on the back of your chair, grazing your cheek with the backs of his fingers, twirling stray locks of your hair, placing a palm on your thigh—as if to make sure you’re still there.

“And you are feeling quite well?” Alicent says. “I remember being horribly sick with Helaena. It lasted all the way through, right up until she was born. It was much worse than my pregnancies with the boys. That was the only trouble she’s ever caused me.”

“I’m very well,” you reply. “I was ill at first, practically bedridden, but…” You exchange a wily glance with Aemond. “Thank the gods, I recovered.”

Aegon appears, swaying and bleary-eyed. He pulls out the chair opposite of you and plops down. He winces and shields his eyes from the late-morning sunlight, groaning.

“You’re late,” Otto snaps.

“I’m here now, aren’t I? Don’t schedule things before noon if you’re so concerned with my punctuality.”

“Aemond was on time. Even his Mormont wife was on time.” Otto Hightower brings up the unimpressive house of your birth at least thrice per day; it is a ceaseless torment to him. He is not openly vindictive, and he does not exclude you from family gatherings like this one, but he has yet to cultivate any fondness for you. Perhaps he never will. You suppose that is a small price to pay for everything fortune has gifted you.

“Was she?” Aegon squints at you. “Are your people familiar with the concept of timekeeping? Don’t they all live in caves?”

You smile. He smiles back, then pours himself a cup of wine until it overflows onto the table. You drink your pomegranate juice; you have become rather obsessed with it.

“At least she turned out to be fertile,” Otto consoles himself as he chews his ham. And then, to Aemond: “I suppose you’re praying for a son. Any man would. But if not this time, surely many more children will follow.”

“Actually, I’m praying for a swift and easy delivery of whatever variety of child it is.”

“That’s a chivalrous thing to say, but you can’t mean it.” Otto butters a thick slice of toast. “I have sons. Viserys has sons. Aegon has sons. Rhaenyra has more sons than she’ll know what to do with once they come of age. I think I know you well enough to be certain you would feel cheated without your own.”

Helaena murmurs to her butterfly: “He waits in the lagoon, coiled, red.”

“Then again,” Otto adds, looking at Aegon. “Sons are not always such a comfort.”

“You are welcome to disown me, Grandsire,” Aegon says cheerfully. “I’ve always thought that I would make a wonderful brothel keeper. I have already acquired such extensive relevant experience.”

Otto snorts, disgusted. Aemond only drinks his tea and drums his fingers on the table. He tells you that he is not preoccupied with whether his firstborn is a male, but you aren’t sure if you believe him. Perhaps he is only trying to spare your feelings, like when he thought you could not bear children at all. You become anxious when you think too much about this. You are desperately afraid to disappoint him. He has already sacrificed so much to keep you.

Through the gardens comes an unexpected guest. Otto grumbles audibly. Helaena’s butterfly takes flight and deserts her. Aegon guzzles his wine; it runs in scarlet tendrils down his chin.

“Lord Larys,” Alicent greets him charitably. “How are you this morning?”

“Very well, my queen.”

Larys waits for an invitation to sit down. Everyone else waits for him to leave. At last, Alicent admits defeat. “Lord Larys, won’t you join us for breakfast? The servants can bring another place setting.”

“Yes!” Otto says with sudden enthusiasm. “Right next to Prince Aegon.” He grins at Aegon toothily. Aegon glares back, his face half-buried in his wine cup. The servants deliver the requisite materials in a flurry and Larys takes his seat. He helps himself to a few miniature muffins, but he doesn’t seem to have much interest in eating. He must have other motivations to stay.

Helaena is painstakingly cutting an apple into paper-thin slivers. “Moon on the water, fire in the sky, moon on the water…”

“Have you something to share with us, Lord Larys?” Alicent inquires.

“I do.” He chooses his words meticulously. “Her Majesty has been so…overtaxed lately. I have had great difficulty finding the opportunity.”

“The king,” Alicent offers in explanation, and cannot elaborate further. Sir Criston extends his hand towards her. She squeezes it as if grasping a precipice that juts out over an abyss.

“Indeed, indeed,” Larys says. “You have my deepest sympathies. And yet, it must be said…I fear that in the king’s absence, there has been a lapse in discipline here at court. A lapse in…morals.”

“How do you mean?” Alicent asks, perplexed.

Otto glowers at Aegon. “What have you done now?”

“No, no, no, my apologies, I am not referring to the prince.” Larys clasps his hands together, debating how to proceed. “This act that I have uncovered, this immoral practice, it is not a crime against men. It is more serious than that, more dire. It is a crime against the gods.”

Aemond—who up until now had been paying Larys no attention whatsoever—looks up at the Master of Whisperers. His blue eye widens, sharpens. Aegon catches this, his drunken brains wrestling over what it means; then it collides with him. There is a cold sweat breaking out on your skin. You can feel your gown sticking to the icy dampness along your ribs, your spine, your rounded belly. Larys Strong knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Alicent is bewildered still. “To whom are you referring, Lord Larys?”

Aegon knocks over his cup with a sweep of his hand, spilling red wine all over the table. “Oh no, oh dear, so clumsy, my mistake.”

“Aegon!” Alicent cries. Sir Criston begins mopping up the mess with cloth napkins.

Larys begins: “In fact—”

Aegon reaches for the wine pitcher, fumbles with it, and deposits the entirety of the contents onto Lord Larys. “Oh, there I go again. You should retire to clean yourself up, Lord Larys. And perhaps get lost if you attempt to return to us.”

“Enough!” Otto Hightower shouts, and the table settles. He turns to a dripping Larys. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

Larys’ eyes flick to you. “It seems…there is evidence that…the princess may have engaged in…well, a very forbidden practice. Witchcraft.”

Aemond stands and draws his sword. Otto’s mouth falls open; his eyes are not just shocked but skeptical, confounded. Helaena covers her face with both hands as if she can wish herself away from this place, this life. Aegon’s fist closes around his fork. But before anyone can move—before any violence can be committed, before further accusations can be made—Alicent speaks.

“I do not wish to hear of it,” the queen says. She is more resolved, more commanding than you have ever heard her before. “She is kind to my daughter, she carries my grandchild, she makes my son happy. And yet still people whisper spitefully about Axel Hightower and conjure up ways by which to banish her from our city, our family. It sickens me, this cynicism, this profound lack of empathy. I will not hear any further slanders against her. And that is exactly what these words are, Lord Larys. Slander. You mean well, about that I have no doubts. You have been an invaluable friend and ally since my youth. But tread carefully when you speak of my children. I count her as one of them now.”

Everyone watches Alicent. There is no sound but the wind and the leaves and the buzzing insects. Wine dribbles from Larys’ hair.

“How many…” Alicent’s voice breaks, and she pauses to compose herself. “How many of us must be compelled into marriages that strengthen our families, our treasuries, our armies but destroy our souls? How many of us must trade away our contentment for the sake of honor? Can the two never coexist? Can our humanity never emerge unscathed, or is that the true price we must pay for greatness?” Sir Criston’s dark eyes are shining, pained. “No, I think that love—uncomplicated, undutiful, unambitious love—can be allowed to prevail this once. If only this once.”

She stares at Lord Larys, daring him to contradict her. Soon everyone else is staring at Larys too, even Helaena. The quiet grows very loud. The Master of Whisperers yields, showing both of his palms in surrender. “Of course. I sincerely apologize. I collect secrets in service to the crown, but not all of them are equally trustworthy. I must have been mistaken. I will not broach the subject again.”

“Good,” Alicent says. Lord Larys stands, bows, and retreats from the table. Aemond sheaths his sword and sits back down. Aegon exhales noisily. Helaena catches a dragonfly on her wrist.

“That fucking ferret,” Otto mutters, shaking his head; and you find yourself able to laugh when everyone else does.

As breakfast concludes and servants begin clearing the table, you and Aemond leave to walk through the gardens. You find the trellis tunnel grown thick with ivy and roses and jasmine and wisteria, and you disappear inside, invisible to the sun and the court and maybe even the gods as well.

“I don’t think Larys will try that again anytime soon,” Aemond says. “Still, we must use your talent sparingly. If Larys Strong learned of it, so can others. And my mother cannot silence them all.” He threads your moonstone pendant through his hand, touches his forehead to yours. His voice is low and adoring. “I assume you have a protection spell in mind for yourself. For when our child is due to be born.”

“There is a particular spell for childbirth, but the way I was taught it requires blue winter roses. As far as I know, they only grow in the North.”

Aemond nods, placing his palm on your belly. “I’ll send a raven to Winterfell and have some brought to King’s Landing. When do you need them?”

“Shortly before I deliver. As close to the labor as possible. At the start of my eighth month, I’d say.”

“Alright. I’ll see that you have them.”

You hesitate, not wanting to offend him. He is the epitome of a Targaryen…minus the illustrious, silver-haired, incestuous wife, of course. “Can I ask you for one favor?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“It’s not that I don’t care for your brother, but…can we please not name our baby Aegon?”

He smiles. “I think Westeros has more than enough Aegons already. Our child doesn’t need the name of a great warrior. They will be one no matter what we call them.”

Them, you think. Not him. Aemond didn’t say him.

In the darkness, in the stillness, you kiss and taste the unabated craving on each other’s lips.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What troubles you, Silver?”

You are on Bearstone sharing a picnic of meats, cheeses, breads, honey cakes, wine, and—your personal favorite—pomegranate juice. The ocean is sparkling and serene, the wind calm, the grass thick and soft beneath you. The sun is hot, but you have taken refuge in the shade of a grove of crooked laurel trees. They remind you of your mother—they share her name—and that once caused you pain like the nick of a blade. Increasingly, you find solace in it.

Aemond peers solemnly out over the waves, his arms linked around his bent knees. You have difficulty touching your knees at all these days; Aegon jokes that your belly is the Eighth Kingdom. “They haven’t arrived yet.”

“What hasn’t?”

“The blue winter roses,” he says. “I haven’t heard anything from Winterfell. Perhaps the raven went astray, perhaps the message was lost. It is an arduous journey, after all. No matter the circumstances, the outcome is the same. You need them, and you don’t have them.”

“Has it been eight months already?”

“Yes.” He’s amused now. “Haven’t you been keeping count?”

“Not as well as you, apparently.”

He studies you. “I’ll go myself,” he decides.

“What, to Winterfell?!”

“Yes, on Vhagar. With stops for meals and rest, it’s about three days each way. I’ll be back within a week. There are plenty of noble houses willing to host me along the route. In fact, they’ll be delighted. They’ll probably start shoving their marriageable daughters at me.”

“Perhaps that’s what Vhagar can eat. Wealthy, yearning maidens.”

He chuckles, then strokes your cheek tenderly, reverently. “I don’t want to wait any longer. I don’t want to risk you not having every advantage available to you.”

“Are you afraid?” you ask, and then immediately you regret putting it into words. You don’t want to give this fear life. You don’t want to give it power.

“No,” Aemond replies; and you cannot tell if he is lying.

~~~~~~~~~~

You are pacing through the gardens when he finds you. Helaena and her handmaidens are chasing her children around the butterfly bushes—Jaehaera, Jaehaerys, and little Maelor too, who is now old enough to toddle around on unsteady legs—but you can’t summon up the stamina for that today. Your swollen feet ache when they touch the cobblestones. Your lower back is knotted with pain: it tightens, loosens, tightens again, and each time you think it could twist no tighter it proves you wrong. You hurt in too many places to number. It would be like trying to count stars or blades of grass.

Aegon gestures to Helaena. “How is she?” He is drunk, but only moderately. He sits down on the rim of a fountain and you join him.

“Thriving. Jovial. You could ask her yourself, you know.”

“That’s not how we do things.” He stares at his wife, his children, but always from a distance. He ponders them the way other people might observe foreign strangers in a crowded marketplace: a little fascinated, a little puzzled. “It’s not her fault that I don’t desire her. It is my shortcoming, in fact. It is a betrayal to my heritage to be repulsed by the act. It is just one in my long litany of failures.” He discards his gloominess abruptly. “But how are you today?”

“Awful. Everything hurts, especially my back. Walking helps some.”

“Let’s walk then.” Aegon stands and loops his arm through yours. His steps are off-balance and lurching. “And just think, you have another full month of this to look forward to. You don’t have a supernatural remedy for the discomfort?”

“I have one for childbirth. But an essential ingredient is currently in transit.”

“Oh, right. Aemond must be soaring over the Riverlands by now.”

You think of the prince, still two or three days away from King’s Landing, and how he is like two souls in one. When he is alone with you, he is kind and gentle and at peace. He is a better husband than King Viserys ever was, already a better father. And yet…when he spars with Sir Criston, when he hears Otto Hightower speak of alliances and armies, when he reads books about tactics of warfare, when he is threatened with losing you…you can see the red glimmer of wrath, of vengeance in his eye. You can see the egregiously wronged boy he once was. “Sometimes I fear I’m losing him to the past instead of joining him in the future”

“You are his future. You, and the baby, and this family. The Greens. That’s all that exists to him.”

“But he cannot conspire against Rhaenyra without remembering what she and her sons did to him. Each time he thinks of it, I watch the hatred boil up inside him.” You look at Aegon. He looks back with perplexed, dark-ringed eyes. “You have to promise that if anything happens to me, you’ll help him. You’ll support him, you’ll guide him. Otto will coax him towards blind revenge, but you must help him rise above that. You must be a good king, a good leader. You must become better than you are now.”

“What could possibly happen to you?”

You glace up at the clouds, at the heavens. “My mother died in childbirth.”

“That’s very sad, but you aren’t going to.”

“Women die in childbirth all the time. You only exist because Aemma Targaryen did.”

“She didn’t just die,” Aegon says with a sort of morbid intrigue. “When all hope was lost, my father had her cut open so they could try to save his son. You could hear the screams all through the Red Keep. Bloodcurdling, I’ve been told. The bed looked like a massacre had taken place there. And in the end, the boy died anyway. So he tortured his beloved wife for nothing.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“Oh,” he realizes, noting your face. “Perhaps I should not have told you that.”

“Your timing could have been better,” you say. “Do you promise?”

He sighs. “I don’t think I have it in me to be a good anything.”

“You do. I know you do. I can see it.”

“Oh, is there a spell for that?” he teases. “Flaying me alive until all my secrets are spilled?”

“Owww.” You stop dead and grab your lower back, squeezing your eyes shut. “Owwww…”

Aegon reaches for you uncertainly. “Are you alright? Are you sure this is normal—?”

There is a sudden gush of liquid that drenches the ground beneath your feet. There is a panicked look that flies between you and Aegon, colored with the knowledge that Aemond is still hopelessly far from King’s Landing. And then, when a new wave of twisting agony pierces through your spine, there are screams. It feels like jagged metal strings are tangled up inside you, shredding muscle, scraping bone. It feels like you are being ripped apart by iron claws. There is sharpness and pressure and tension all at once. There is no escaping it.

Helaena helps you to your bedroom and calls for the maesters and midwives. By the time they arrive, you are on the floor sobbing, gasping for air, trembling all over. Helaena cools your face with wet cloths and promises that you will have relief between contractions, but you don’t feel any break in the pain: it is bad, and then it is worse, and then it is unbearable, but it never vanishes from you. The midwives check you again and again, and although they speak to you soothingly and encouragingly you can see the bleak dread in the glances they pass each other like whispers.

Helaena does not leave your side except when she collapses—curled up on a couch in the corner of the room—to catch a few hours of fractured sleep. Aegon sits in the hallway outside and drinks, worries, drinks some more. Queen Alicent arrives every few hours to offer praise and advice, to assess your progress. Her face grows more grave with each visit. She consults with the maesters and midwives, positing suggestion after suggestion, positions and herbs and drinks and prayers. Nothing helps you. Nothing brings the child out of you, and after a while you can no longer feel them moving. I’ve killed them, you think to yourself. And now it’s my turn to die too.

At first, you fight to live. You are petrified by the knowledge that your mother died exactly like this, afraid and suffering and utterly defenseless despite her gift of magic. Perhaps she was not able to cast the spell for protection in childbirth before her labor began. Perhaps it simply didn’t work. Perhaps the Old Gods heard her pleas and denied them, silenced them, determined that her hourglass had run out. You don’t want to die. You don’t want to leave Aemond, Helaena, Aegon, Alicent, Sir Criston, this city, this world. You don’t want to abandon Aemond to descend into merciless, mindless fury. You don’t want to die, you don’t want to die, you don’t want to die.

As the hours pass, as the days pass, the fight bleeds out of you. Death would be an end to the pain. Death would be cold, silent nothingness. And, most vitally, death in this particular circumstance seems to be inevitable.

When the midwives announce with renewed exuberance that at last you are dilated enough to deliver, you don’t have any strength left. You cannot keep down food or water; you vomit up every drop of liquid they pour down your throat, raw from screaming and retching. You have not slept. You lie in the same bed where Aemond made love to you on your wedding night and let the contractions shred through you one after the other, accomplishing nothing, afflicting futile violence. You have nothing left. You are as empty as open hands.

When Vhagar is spotted flying into King’s Landing, Aegon sprints out to the beach to meet his brother. Aemond climbs down from the netting wearing a triumphant grin; in the satchel slung over his shoulder are twenty-seven blue winter roses, still relatively fresh. His smile dies when he sees Aegon, when he reads his face, when he smells the wine and sweat and desperation on him.

“It’s too late for that,” Aegon says. His words are strangled. His cheeks are ruddy and wet with tears. “But you might still have time to say goodbye.”

You know the instant Aemond enters the room; he changes it just like he always does. The floor shifts, the walls expand, the daylight grows brighter. “I’m here,” he tells you, kneeling at your bedside. “Shh, I’m here, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but I’m here now.”

Your voice is less than a whisper. “I don’t want to die like my mother.”

“You are not dying. Look at me, look at me…” He grabs your face roughly with both hands. “You are not dying, I promise you that you’re not. You are in battle, but you are winning.”

Your eyes roll to his, glassy and vacant, wanting to believe him. Helaena sobs on the other side of the room. Alicent embraces her, comforts her, prepares her.

“I’ll help you,” Aemond says. “Alright? We’ll do this together. I’ll help you. I won’t leave you for a second. I won’t leave until it’s over.”

Until it’s over, he said. Not until our child is born. Because no one believes the baby is still alive. “Alright,” you agree faintly, the words of a ghost.

Aemond climbs onto the bed, sits behind you, rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone. When the midwives tell you to push, he kisses your temple and entwines his hands with yours and reminds you that you are almost there, nearly done, winning. In the midst of a contraction that feels like razors, and then crushing pressure, and then fire, the baby is born. And while sounds erupt through the room—cheers and chatter and gasps of relief—there is no cry. You expect this. You barely feel the grief at all. Later you will, surely, but not now.

“I’m sorry,” you tell Aemond, barely conscious, the room dimming to black. Blood flows in a torrent from your life-robbing womb.

“No,” he replies. You can feel the dampness of tears on his right cheek. “It’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry—”

And then there is a noise, a fragile little squeak as the midwives jostle her, your tiny wrinkled newborn daughter; and a reedy little cry follows. Alicent bursts into jubilant tears. Helaena rushes over to hold the baby. You fade away, away, away.

You sink into a deep, pitch-black sleep with no dreams. You deliver the afterbirth and the midwives massage your belly, and you are barely aware of these facts. You surface momentarily when you are given morsels of food or drink or milk of the poppy. You are cleaned and dressed and scrupulously monitored. A wetnurse is found for the baby; you could not nurse even if it was customary for a princess to do so, as your milk had not yet come in before your too-soon labor. You drift in the darkness. You gather strength; you heal. Aemond brushes the tangles from your hair and speaks to you in High Valyrian and waits for you to rejoin him in the land of the living.

After three full days, you are well enough for visitors. You lie in bed in a regal, celebratory golden gown and accept congratulations as your daughter is passed around, careful arms eagerly enfolding her: Otto, Alicent, Helaena, Sir Criston, various Hightowers, maesters, the highest-ranking nobles currently at court, Aemond always hovering nearby and impatient to take her back. Oddly enough, nobody seems disappointed that she is not a son, least of all your husband. Aegon bypasses all the cooing and admiring and sits down beside you on the bed, one brimming cup in each hand.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi. I brought you some pomegranate juice.” He hands you a cup.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d have much interest in this. Are you here to see the baby?”

“No.” He touches your forehead—feeling for fever—and then your cheeks. “You scared me.”

“Not as much as I scared myself, I assure you.”

“Don’t do that again.”

“He’s so in love with her, I think we’ll have to have twenty children.”

“That would be a new record, surely.”

“Why, do you only have nineteen?”

“You fucking bitch,” he says, smiling enormously, and clinks his cup against yours.

Otto Hightower parades your daughter around the room. She is obviously asleep, but he narrates every feature to her anyway: here’s the history of that tapestry, there’s the rug brought to the Red Keep from some exotic corner of the world. “What will you call her?” he asks Aemond. “Visenya? Alyssa? Alysanne?”

Aemond turns to you. “I think we should name her after your mother.”

“Yes,” you reply as you clasp your pendent. You had not considered it, but it’s perfect. It suits her. It breathes new life into something that was stolen from you.

“Laurel.” You love the way Aemond says it: hushed like a sigh, gentle like his hands.

“Laurel?!” Otto exclaims. “That’s not a Targaryen name!”

“Perhaps you will recall, Grandsire, that she is also half-Mormont.”

“Well…I suppose it cannot be helped at this point,” Otto concedes. Everything about him—voice, posture, eyes—softens as he gazes down at his great-granddaughter. You had thought that only Helaena was capable of having that effect on him. “She is a fine child. She looks like a Targaryen, at least.” And she does: she has your skin and your eyes, but her dusting of short, wispy hair is pure silver.

When you are able to walk long distances again, Aemond insists that there is one last introduction that still needs to be made. The three of you venture down to an abandoned stretch of rocky beach—Aemond carrying Laurel, stepping slowly and cautiously—where Vhagar is slumbering like an earthquake waiting to split the land. She unfurls when she hears you approaching, flares her nostrils, blinks sluggishly with those savage, muddy eyes.

“Fire,” Aemond says, laying his bare palm to Vhagar’s flesh. Then he smooths his hand over your daughter’s sparse, downy hair. “And blood.” The egg in her cradle is a pale, shimmering, off-white color with silver flecks. The feeling in your chest is nothing but open, fearless, shadowless joy.

Exactly eight weeks later—seeking to secure Lucerys Targaryen’s claim to Driftmark—Rhaenyra and Daemon set sail from Dragonstone, bound for the flourishing, golden shores of King’s Landing.

[seffoe]

thanks for the tag moot. if you're just scrolling through the page, im not sorry, i will be posting the entire sky next. all of it.

Onto the questions

last song: A Human's Touch by TWRP (I apparently spent 9.5 hours listening to it one day. BUT ITS SOOO FUCKING GODOODOF FOFJUFIUERHFUERHFUYEGHERYGHY47 LISTEN TO IT.)

fav colour: seafoam green. If you get the balance of blue and green just right it looks Fantastic.

last fic: Valentines' Day Chaos (as in i read a bit and then stopped cause i am awful at this HELP)

last show: wandavision. watched agatha all along first weirdly enough, but I think it was a super interesting look at escapism and grief, alongside just how damn creative it was oh beautiful

sweet/savory/spicy: Savoury. Sweets are good of course, but I cannot handle spice. at all. weak

relationship: nope. 🧡💛🤍🩵💙

last google: "how to change text on a link tumblr" (also googled for an emoji list half way through this we are just flying by)

looking forward to: Finishing my OC redesigns, super happy with what I changed on Eliath, their colours are so much clearer now. Also Seph's jacket change and a finalized PIE design FINALLY. Also finishing up that episode, that'd be nice. is it obvious ive only finished Seph/PIE and Eliath. oops.

tags: no pressure, only if yall want to.

@pigeonsplease @clone-nelly

okay great enjoy the 15 reblogs in a row of fugue or smtn. it's coming.

10 people I’d like to get to know better

10 people I’d like to get to know better

Since I had two separate tags in this, @spaceyjessa and @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog I decided I would make a separate post.

Last song:  with lyrics: Beautiful Boy by The Last Dinner Party (I found out about this band like two weeks ago and now I’m going through a phase I’m obsessed)

Without lyrics: I am ready by Kevin Kiner & Sean Kiner: from the bad batch season three soundtrack. Been listening to it a lot lately, as it feels pretty prevalent to the time of my life that I’m at

Favourite color: light pinks and baby blues

Last book/fic: the last book I finished was defy the storm, by Tessa Gratton (I’m getting closer and closer to being caught up on THR)

Fic: Mace Windu fixes the timeline (You should read it, it’s wonderful) 

Last movie: the rise of Skywalker (yes, I love the sequel trilogy and what about it 💅)

Last show: the bad batch... I’m re-watching, again... how predictable 🙄

Sweet/spicy/savory: I have a big sweet tooth, especially when it comes to chocolate

Relationship: single real life, but in love with countless fictional characters inside my head🤩

Last thing I googled: what does the quest cookies and cream protein bar taste like? (look, I have arfid. I can’t just buy new things to try without knowing exactly what I’m getting into first)

Current obsession: Star Wars, duh! Specifically clones and TBB, the Mandalorian and the high republic

I look forward to telling you: that if you’re reading this you’re wonderful

No pressure tags (and I’m sorry if you’re being tagged again)  @clonethirstingisreal @eobe @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream and anyone else who would like to.

[monster-energies]

i’ve gotta get better, and maybe we’ll work it out

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

pairing: severus snape/reader

summary:   with severus snape taking full force of harry potter's occulmency lessons, he wished he was anywhere except near the boy who lived, but when a heated lesson forces old memories back into severus' mind, he doesn't seem to take them well. will he let you in with open arms ?

warnings: HEAVY ANGST !! self harm, self doubt, lots of hurt/comfort, this includes references to snape’s worst memory from order of the phoenix, very anti-marauders/anti-james potter so don’t start making arguments about my fic please.

rating: mature

ʚ♡ɞ please click here if you would like to be apart of my taglist

ʚ♡ɞ taglist: @insomniacaesthetic @eternal-silvertongued-prince @sevsssnape  @mirarenwick @diamondbitch116​ @mamawolfsmith16​ @nickangel13​ @a-queen-and-her-throne​ @deepperplexity​​ @amazingzou​​ @yan-senna​ @yellowbadgermole​​​

word count:   6067

this oneshot can be found on archive of our own

author’s note: title's namesake is lyrics from the song meet me in the hallway by harry styles.

so....im back....again 🕺🏼✨

okay hi long time no see. university had me at the throat and i had zero motivation to write zero fiction. thats literally the reason why there's been a huge gap in my fanfics, nothing whacky like the typical ao3 author. just uni.

i didn't want to write something half arsed and post it, especially when i have this long ass break so i will be living and laughing and luvvin xx or whatever. 

this includes references to snape’s worst memory from order of the phoenix, very anti-marauders/anti-james potter so don’t start making arguments about my fic please.

in light of america overturning roe v wade and the uk making attempts to reform the human rights act, i will be linking resources for both these things. ABORTION RESOURCES https://www.ineedana.com/ https://www.plancpills.org/ https://digitaldefensefund.org/ https://abortionfunds.org/ https://www.change.org/p/defend-roe-pass-legislation-to-protect-abortion-access https://www.weareplannedparenthood.org/Rz9pIXDqUk-c0wl1RoiKrA2?sourceid=1010856 https://actionnetwork.org/petitions/protect-roe-v-wade-save-reproductive-rights?source=twitter HUMAN RIGHTS RESOURCES https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/607712 https://www.change.org/p/justice-secretary-dominic-raab-human-rights-act-reform-must-be-stopped-now https://action.libertyhumanrights.org.uk/page/100020/petition/1?locale=en-GB https://www.amnesty.org/en/get-involved/take-action/ once again, please support these causes and sign petitions !!

i hope you enjoy this oneshot, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated 💕💕

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

no one ever really saw the true severus.

there was never a chance for him to show how he truly felt about things, which was until he met you. you had been nothing short of an acquaintance to him, someone who worked with him. how he met you was like any other person, you had taken up the defence against the dark arts post, a job he had always been rejected of by dumbledore. but you seemed to be much different, you looked as if you knew what you were doing as you continued to teach at hogwarts.

you seemed to be a natural at teaching such an extreme subject. but once everything unravelled, how your parents used to be death eaters, you had no choice but to protect yourselves from them. you were quite closed off at first, but meeting severus changed you also, making you just a bit kinder in life.

after he had finally brought the courage to confess his true feelings to you, you admitted to liking him back and exchanging some of your own feelings to him. severus only wanted nothing but to make you happy, and happiness you brought him.

he was on cloud nine whenever he was around you, even at the slight mention of you from his students or colleagues would bring his attention in an instant. he truly was lucky upon meeting you, through the confides of his own chambers he was safer with you.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

he never entirely considered sharing his private quarters with someone, but now that you were with him, and rightfully you weren’t going anywhere, there was no point staying apart for this long.

severus decided he was going to ask you today, but at what time? should he wear a new suit? that would be ridiculous, he didn’t have the time to do so.

he had been lingering around in the hallways, waiting for your class to end. he heard the scraping of chairs and the chatter amongst students, he managed to catch a glimpse of some of his seventh-year potions students, who for some had been quite fortunate to have advanced classes from him which made him smirk to himself. he was to have that advanced potion class at the very end of his schedule.

he then made his way into your classroom, sneaking up on you before he found way to you, wrapping his long cloak around your body, placing small kisses on your face.

“hello, their professor, what may i do for you?” you asked, a smile beaming on your face as you turned to him returned his kisses, placing yourself at the edge of your desk.

“your hands.” you pointed out. his brows raised slightly, the moment he looked to his fingertips severus had noticed there had been a light tremble to them. you took his hands and squeezed them slightly.

“you have no need to be scared around me anymore.” you reassured; severus’ lips twitched slightly. oh he was very lucky alright.

“i understand that y/n...i happen to not be so on edge whenever you’re near.” severus said, his thumb stroking your knuckles, that resplendent smile of yours yet to fade away.

“actually, i have a question to ask you.” he said. you perked slightly as your hands were still woven with his.

“you do? what do you have to ask me sev?” you asked.

severus simply couldn’t forget the question, the most important question to him (other than a marriage proposal of course.)

“well, we’ve been…together for some time. and i...i just. would you like to move into my quarters?” severus blurted.

you blinked slightly. severus’ brows furrowed, his expression saddening as you had yet to say a single thing.

he had willingly prepared himself for you to say no, but once he looked up and saw that loving smile of yours, relief washed over him.

“you know i’ve been waiting for you to ask me for months, of course i will.” you replied, getting off the ledge of the table, reaching to your tiptoes to press a soft kiss.

severus’ hands cupped your cheek and your neck as your kiss lasted perhaps a little more than five seconds.

“you weren’t going to say no?” severus asked.

“why would i ever decline such a thing my dear. i’d be more than happy to move into your chambers tonight, tomorrow…but don’t count on me waking up early.” you answered.

he had felt a weight being lifted upon asking you that, and he couldn’t wait to have you around his quarters.

“gather your things, you can move in tonight.” severus said, his fingers dwindling at your hair as he looked at your beaming face, you pulled yourself into severus’ arms as you were excited beyond belief at his answer.

letting go from his grasp, you both stood there for a while admiring one another, both your thoughts pondering at how fortunate you were to have one another.

he stared intently at your eyes, how they wavered in varying directions as you gazed lovingly at him.

“you have a class soon sev.” you pointed out to him before he quickly snapped out of it and was about to leave to continue his lessons that were planned for the day. but you were quick to grab his hand and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“i love you. i’ll see you tonight.” you spoke.

“i love you, my dear y/n.” severus said, before the let go of your hands and left your class.

with his cloak billowing behind him as he made his way back to the realms of his potions class, a small smirk appeared to his face. he truly hadn’t been this lucky in years, it was as if every thought he had of the past had disappeared and whilst he never revealed his emotions, he truly was on cloud nine.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

the night was upon you both, you and severus had finished classes for the day. a spring in your step occurred as you almost sprinted to your quarters to gather all your things from your chambers in boxes. you heard a knock on your door, you rushed to open it and there he was.

he peered over your shoulder to see you had already packed everything. “sometimes y/n you forget you are a wizard.” severus said, waving his wand and in an instant all your things had disappeared.

“they would have transported to my quarters by now.” he said.

“okay okay, no need to show off.” you teased playfully slapping his chest as you took his hand made your way down to the spiral stairs to his quarters.

you opened the door and to no surprise, your belongings had arrived right in front of you both. “merlin how many clothes does one need?” severus asked completely taken aback at the mound of clothes you had owned.

it seemed as if you had something for every occasion you picked up some of the boxes and unpacked some of your clothes. you went into his bedroom and had noticed that even severus did his part in settling you in his chambers. you arranged your clothes in the wardrobes and drawers he had prepared, then you put your shoes next to his own pairs. once the clothes were organized, you saw severus had arranged your belongings all around his. your work next to his and all your prized possessions around the chambers.

“you seem to know your way around making a room look very cosy.” you said, it looked like he knew your vision and it felt right for the both of you.

knowing severus never felt like home with his own family, he did everything he could in order to make his chambers look like a place that his teenage self would love to be in.

“did you manage to settle into the bedroom?” he asked. you nodded, you lead him into the bedroom and had saw all your clothes and your personal belongings right there.

“i think we deserve a little bit of rest don’t you think?” you suggested,  sitting at the edge of the bed. severus followed suit and sat beside you, he shifted around slightly looking over at his night shirt that had been hanging inside the wardrobe.

“oh, you want to get changed. i’m sorry about keeping you from doing that hold on.” you said, getting a hold of severus’ night shirt and handing it to him before you left and shut the door on him.

severus hadn’t ever met anyone that respected his boundaries or his limits, the fact that you put him first was something he was beyond fortunate for.

he hadn’t ever been fond of getting changed in front of anyone or revealing his body of any sorts. not since the day that wretched james potter and his little clique bullied him relentlessly in losing his one friend he had when he was at school. that didn’t matter anymore, why on earth would that memory resurface now? when he seemed to be at a position where he was most content with himself?

once severus finally got changed, he opened the door as an indication for you to finally come inside. you went inside and got into the bed with severus, laying down together severus had found himself staring at the ceiling, deep in thought as he finally let you into his quarters.

“it’s saturday tomorrow, am i mistaken?” he asked.

you peered over your watch and looked at the small calendar that sat on your bedside table. “yes, it will be.” you spoke.

severus only hummed, shifting himself to the other side of the bed. his eyes glaring at the door, but his gaze was soon averted to you as you peppered kisses all over his cheek and his neck left somewhat bare. you could only see a smirk on his face as he pulled you into his arms and you laid on his chest, his heart softly beating against your ear.

“would you care to do something you enjoy tomorrow, my dear?” he offered. you nodded with a grin to your face.

“what would you like to do sev?” you asked.

“my darling y/n i insist you pick what we do tomorrow.” he said. you couldn’t but giggle and kiss your lover.

your lips lingered on for just a while longer, severus’ scent clung onto you as both gazed into each other’s eyes once you pulled away.

“how about we go to that little pond you showed me? then we do little to nothing of importance and just read to one another, how does that sound?” you suggested.

“that seems like the perfect plan y/n.” severus answered.

you smiled more at his response, nuzzling your head into his chest and a deep chuckle emerged from his lips, kissing the top of your head.

“you’re perfect y/n. my angel.” he murmured under his breath.

you were nothing but perfect to him.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

“can we just rest? we’ve been at it for hours!” the young boy harry potter exclaimed at severus, trying to make his way to the door to hurry out.

severus had no choice but to teach harry potter the art of occlumency, lord voldemort had returned and had to do all he can to protect the boy, despite his intense grudge.

“the dark lord isn’t…resting.” severus said, taking a glimpse into his eyes, grimacing instantly at how potter menacingly looks familiar to his bully. unfortunately, the bully just so happened to be his father.

“you and black you’re two of a kind, sentimental children. forever whining about how bitterly unfair your lives have been. well, it may have escaped your noticed, but life isn’t fair. your blessed father knew that, in fact he frequently sought to it.” severus said.

“my father was a great man!” harry defended.

“your father was a swine!” severus exclaimed.

grabbed a hold of his jacket, almost flinging him onto the other side of the classroom but before he could continue with his lesson, he saw harry had taken out his wand.

“legilimens.”

“protego!”

it had all happened so quickly and yet it was all too late for severus snape, his past slowly unravelling in front of the boy who lived.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

the art of legilimency and occlumency is unlike any other type of magic. it was nothing like looking at memories through a pensive, where you can see the whole story.

it can only let you see the snippets of a person’s timeline. who they were before the moment, why they had become the human they were today? unfortunately for severus snape, every day seemed to be a horrible memory for him.

nothing ever seemed to go correctly for the poor boy and even when he was in the place where he should have escaped from reality, not even that seemed to heal him from all the torment he had to go through.

but nothing could ever leave his mind, that was his worst memory.

unravelled at the seams.

“come on, moony, padfoot. expelliarmus!”

his memories unleashed, he saw his wand being flung 12 feet in the air and falling on the grass. the marauders and a few students giggling at this interaction mocking him relentlessly. severus always felt on edge, he felt defenceless against them, and it was all because of a friendship he had.

the only friendship he had.

“nice one, james.” sirius cheered.

after countless incantations of hexes from james, severus found himself flipped upside down, struggling to keep himself composed in this moment.

severus had the constant urge to spit out varying hexes at james but theres was certainly nothing he could do about it, especially when he was upside down.

“scourgify!”

severus heard but he couldn’t do anything as pink soapy bubbles streamed from snape's mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him. the chemical bubbles drooling out of his mouth, he had been suffocating physically and emotionally.

“leave him alone!”

“take the curse off him!”

he could recognize that voice anywhere, that was lily evans. he had heard james sighing deeply and muttering the counter curses, letting him go of the magical hostage he was put under.

“you're lucky evans was here, snivellus-” james sneered.

“i don't need help from filthy little mudbloods like her!” severus snapped, but his eyes instantly widened, instant regret washed over his face as he turned to lily who was too stunned to speak.

“fine.” she said. “i won't bother in future. and i'd wash your pants if i were you, snivellus.”

“apologise to evans!” james screeched, his wand pointed directed to his neck.

“i don't want you to make him apologise.” lily shouted, approaching james as she looked to the two boys, fighting like 2 toddlers. “you're as bad as he is.” said she, rolling her eyes and glaring darts at severus.

“i could never call you a you-know-what!” james had admitted, however severus couldn’t seem to read his tone, he didn’t know if this was complete sarcasm or whether he was being genuine with his words. only one thing for certain was that james potter was a menace and a bully, and he would have done it again had opportunity knocked.

after being scalded by the young girly, she turned on her heel and hurried away.

a silence occurred in the field, severus’ guilt more unbearable than ever but james simply couldn’t care less as he reverted all his hexes and spells back onto the slytherin boy.

“right. who wants to see me take off snivelly's trousers?” james suggested, the smirk on his face never leaving.

he heard the chants and cheers of the students around him, snivellus greasy.

that was all he heard.

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

“snivellus greasy.”

 ꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

“enough…enough!” severus yelled, his voice deepening by the second. harry taken aback at the thoughts he had seen.

harry had shifted around to see whether he was left back into reality, but once he turned to the front, he saw severus right in front of him, jolting slightly in his steps and almost knocking a few of his vials over, one empty vial however had smashed right onto severus’ hand as he went to grab the boy, his hand bleeding over the shards of glass that stuck to his hand.

it really was something out of a horror movie and harry had no words to describe the moment.

“having fun?” severus’ voice growled, before grabbing a harsh hold of his shirt.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself…haven’t you?” severus sneered, his teeth grinding on every word.

“i haven’t-”

“amusing man your father was.” severus sneered, before flinging the boy who lived onto the ground.

“you will not tell a single soul what you saw.” severus demanded harshly.

“i wasn’t going-”

“and your lessons are at an end.” severus monotonously added.

“get. out.” severus said. but harry had been frozen this entire time.

severus turn, his cloak swiftly following after, but it wasn’t as smooth or blissful like his demeanour, his brows furrowed with rage as he grabbed the boy, bashing his head to the wall.

“i don’t want to see you in this office, again! now. leave!” severus exclaimed.

letting go of the boy, harry had rushed out, shaken up by the encounter that he had with severus.

severus leaned to the shelf, his bloody hand drying up slowly as more blood trailed all over his hands.

tears swelled in his eyes, glaring at the table riddled with vials and cauldrons. by now they had been nothing but a blur, grabbing his wand and waving multiple silencing charms, his arms swiped the whole desk empty as screams of trauma left his voice. his cloak and frock coat torn to tiny pieces that matched the varying shards that flew all over the room.

severus’ eyes darted towards every shelf and took down everything on there in fury, with his sobs morphing into screams he felt powerless in his own life, not even he could control the fate that had remained of him.

his childhood filled with nothing but hatred from his father, whilst his mother sat there helpless, and all bruised up and not able to feed him. his father being nothing short of a monster. he remembered lily; she was so happy with him.

telling her that she was a wizard and they promised that they were going to be the best of friends.

at hogwarts.

that was supposed to be a place that he could get away from, but even then, hogwarts managed to haunt him every day he was there.

no matter where he went, he always got the short end of the stick, he always had a dark cloud raining all over him and it drained him constantly.

this was the last straw for severus snape.

his screams were deafening in the potions class, his pained voice rang throughout the entire room as the tears soon flooded his entire uniform.

severus reached for his sleeves, tearing them up more than it already was and grabbed his wand, pointing to his arm.

“sectum….sempra!” he hissed out, waving his wand in the directions he wanted, his arms filled with fresh scars, dripping all over the concrete ground. he chanted his own spell once more at his arms, and more blood appeared on his arms where the dark mark was.

he swore to himself he was never going to return to that time in his life, his worst moment and he still failed horribly.

he failed.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

“oh harry! there you are. have you seen professor snape anywhere?” you asked

“yes, i think he’s…in his class.” harry gulped.

you took a closer look at the young boy, he had been sweating bullets, and looked almost dehydrated.

“harry, are you okay? don’t tell me you and professor snape had another argument again.” you said.

“no! what makes you think that? i’m fine professor l/n!” he said in a hushed manner and hurriedly walked away.

that was very odd of him. no doubt harry would have come out of severus’ classes quite heated and angry from whatever argument he would have from the potions master, but this was odd. you continued to walk in the direction of severus’ class. but the sounds of glass muffled in the distance.

your eyes widened as you sprinted towards the door.

panic written all over your face.

once you opened the door, you saw the state of the potions classroom and there stood severus, hunched over at his desk, trembling at the seams.

“severus…” you called softly, his face twisted towards your direction, you feared what he had done or what was he going to do.

“you shouldn’t be…here. leave! leave now!” severus screamed his voice getting louder at every word.

manically throwing anything within his proximity, turmoil of emotions rushed into the man as he approached you, pointing his wand at your neck but you couldn’t do anything as you had backed up against the wall, his hands gripping at the fabric of your clothing as the tip of his wand poked at your neck and yet all you could do was panic.

“severus what are you doing? please stop!” you exclaimed.

“you cannot be here, get out now!” he shouted.

“severus it’s me! sev…don’t! it’s me, y/n.” you shrieked in an instant. severus paused for a moment, he took a glimpse in your worried eyes as he dropped his wand down.

a long tense silence commenced between you two, severus slowly walked toward his desk and slumped himself on his chair, completely drained.

you frowned, but the second you took a glimpse of all of his injuries you didn’t hesitate to help him instantly. you looked into his cupboard and there you saw a muggle first aid kit; you couldn’t help but think of how severus said it would be silly to have such a thing. you had magic, why would you need some silly muggle hospitality?

you picked up a nearby bowl, filling it up with water. you sat by severus and saw how much you would have to take care of.

but it didn’t bother you in the slightest.

you had cleaned up every wound he had on his arms, which made severus wince at how harsh the pain was. he tried so hard not to show you how hurt he was, but you could see through it, and it saddened you.

“it’s okay sev, i’ll be done soon.” you comforted him as you continued to treat his fresh scars. you then bandaged his arms and made sure the bandages weren’t too tight for him.

“why?”

you perked up at severus’ voice.

“why do you insist on helping me?” severus croaked.

it almost shocked you that severus would ask such a question.

can a man that has done so much, a man that has the world on his shoulders not be helped?

did he really think he was not loved?

it made you laugh slightly, which made severus perplexed. and yet he was so certain you were laughing at him.

“i just want to help you.” you answered.

severus eyes spoke a million words, insisting you continue.

“you always help me in everything that i’ve done here. you know how to pick me up when i’m sad or i’m not in the most…charitable of moods. it’s only fair that i do the same with you severus.” you spoke.

“please…look at me.” you pleaded.

severus looked into your eyes, as they filled with small tears.

“there is always someone who will cherish you and care for you, no matter what the situation. that just so happened to be me. how long have we been together, and you always cheer me up? hm? you are simply the highlight of my day, waking up in your arms, being given affection from you and all the kind things that you do for me is more than enough. i’m certain that all that you do is going to be for a good cause. and i hope you know how much you mean to me, severus.” you spoke.

your hand was cupped at his cheek, you pressed a kiss to his forehead as you then let go of him slowly

“please take care of yourself my dear. i’ll be in our quarters when you’re ready.” you said.

severus enjoyed those two words together.

our chambers.

yes, it felt just right.

“i will.” he muttered to himself, sympathetically you smiled at him before you left to go to the private quarters.

severus grabbed his wand and reversed all the mess that was made. he looked to his torn clothes, and the bandages that you did. his mind instantly screamed for you, waiting for you to come back.

you were what he needed, you helped him let go of his past and he yearned for you always.

severus’ tears occurred once more, the one person he loved dearly still stood by him. once the mess had been completely reversed, he left his classroom to go to his chambers.

he saw you idly reading a book, he approached you and took a hold of your hand lifting you into a warm and tight hug.

“thank you...” severus mumbled.

you only smiled and hugged him even tighter.

“you’re welcome severus.” you replied.

never had he felt so understood and respected more than he did now, you trusted him more than he could ever comprehend.

and that was the key to severus’ heart, right there.

it was you.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

you had been waiting for severus for quite some time, you wanted to unwind a little bit with him and what better way than to relax by your favourite pond with him.

you had been reading one of severus’ favourite book to keep you company, knowing him you knew he liked to take his time with his appearance. doing each button one by one, on each sleeve that he had on his clothes.

it had been quite warm in the recent days so you sported one of your summer dresses. your eyes lifted themselves from your book and there you saw severus, approaching you slowly as his cloak followed him.

“there you are! i was worried you’d couldn’t find our pond.” you said smiling blissfully at severus.

“i’m severus snape. i never get lost.” he said, with a tinge of pride in his tone.

you couldn’t help but giggle slightly. you’ve always seen severus to the likes of mister darcy.

pride and prejudice had always been one of yours and severus’ favourite books.

even as a child, all the way through to current time, it was a book you simply couldn’t put down. whether it be jane austen’s writing style or your hypnotising hyper fixation on fitzwilliam darcy, you always found the opportunity to read such a book.

severus had shared such similarities to mister darcy, both are unconventionally attractive. while some may not be considered beautiful in today’s society, you found them beautiful on the inside and that was what mattered to you. in fact, both were deemed morally grey (or ambiguous), well severus’ intentions would always be made clear in the end. however, mister darcy’s intentions were never entirely revealed to the poor bennet girl, who believed was being led astray.

both were very much mysterious, but then again you always followed the leads of man with very little to know about. somehow both severus and darcy seemed to see you as nothing more than an acquaintance, however you knew that your version of pride and prejudice, neither of you saw one another as true enemies, nothing short of a friendly rivalry between the pair of and it was all in good spirits.

you had slowly begun to snap out of your comparisons between your lover and fitzwilliam darcy, your hand slowly grasping at the woven basket.

“i made you your favourite.” you said, opening it to reveal cupcakes.

“i knew you had a sweet tooth, and dark chocolate just so happens to be your favourite.” you revealed.

severus would never in a million years  admit to anyone that he enjoyed something sweet here and there, but dark chocolate happened to be his favourite. something in its taste felt just right, it wasn’t too sweet nor was it too bitter, the sight of the cupcakes you made was enough to make his mouth water.

taking a small bite of the cupcake he had taken from your grasp, he felt calm. for once he felt certain of himself.

you scooted closer to him and found yourself resting on severus’ arm. he winced harshly which made you instantly get up.

“i didn’t hurt you did i?” you asked worriedly. “oh god i must have, i’m so sorry!” you apologized in a panic.

“y/n, no no! you don’t need to be sorry. it just so happens to be the aftermath of the events last night.” severus replied.

then you slowly realized.

you didn’t check up on severus this morning, before you went and prepared for this little day out you planned.

“how are they?” you asked.

severus’ serene and calm feelings sunk slowly.

“your injuries…i brought some spare bandages in case i needed to re-do them.” you spoke.

you took a hold of his hands and stroked them ever so gently in your grasp.

“its okay. you’re safe here.” you reassured.

severus only sighed, rolling up his sleeves and the bandages revealed themselves. you undid them and there you saw his scars. they had begun to heal ever so slowly.

“the healing spell could have finished this easily.” severus mumbled.

“well…we were tight on time and emotions were quite high.” you admitted.

once you had put the new bandages over severus’ injuries, severus was quick to roll his sleeves down. severus did nothing but worry over the last 24 hours, he hadn’t felt this anxious in years.

you could see the worry in his eyes, to say it concerned you was an understatement. you took a hold of his scraped hands, stroking them softly with your thumb.

“you needn’t worry about your scars. they shape you and show how far you’ve come and how much you have left to give.” you reassured him

severus’ tense body slowly relaxed within your grasp. he truly was grateful for you, his hands slowly let go of yours and cupped your cheek.

he kissed your forehead.

then his lips trailed to the bridge of your nose.

next was your cheek, which made way for him to kiss your jaw.

and finally…your lips.

you both exchanged slow and tender kisses. savouring every single moment with your lips. the bitterness on severus’ lips capsulated you and moved yourself further as you both wanted to share such an intimate moment with one another.

his other hand slowly slithered to your waist, caressing it gently with his fingers which left you yearning for more.

his thumb slowly stroked your bottom lip, you knew severus was always one to tease but it was one of those moments you would cherish.

you then brought the cupcakes and the book you had been reading a little closer, so that they were in severus’ proximity.

“reading pride and prejudice, again my sweet girl?” severus asked.

your smile grew wider upon mentioning of the book. “i just can’t seem to put it down.” you admitted.

you handed the book to severus, flipping to the page you had been reading.

“and this just so happens to be your favourite page.” severus said.

you rested your head on severus’ chest, his voice sending shivers down your spine listening to him read.

“in vain i have struggled. it will not do. my feelings will not be repressed. you must allow me to tell you how ardently i admire and love you.” severus read.

then there was silence between the pair of you. nothing but the birds tweeting, the sound of the pond’s water flowing slower than a turtle, the quiet breeze that your hair shortly followed.

“you really like that line, don’t you?” he said.

“it just truly captures mister darcy at his finest.” you said before taking a bite out of one of the cupcakes you picked up.

“you haven’t touched your cupcake.” you noted, severus looked down to find his cupcake only having one bite.

he then picked it up and slowly bit into the sweet delicacy, he had been filled with warmth the more bites he took. he truly was at a loss at how fortunate he was to have you; it was truly what he needed after the hectic events of last night.

“hey…sev?” you called to him softly.

he looked down to you as you brought his attention to you, “what are you thinking about?” you asked.

“you.” was all he said.

“who else would i be thinking about? i often feel as if i don’t voice my appreciation for you.” he admitted.

whilst he was a person who was never on top of the social pyramid, some of the things you had done for and with him would have him speechless, severus couldn’t find the words to tell you how much you had meant to him, so he was often left quiet and unable to voice his true feelings.

but whether he had been silent as a rabbit or as loud as a falcon, you loved him for who he was.

“the things you do for me…you are selfless. so selfless, putting myself first before you. and merlin…you are so perfect. so perfect, you still stay with me after all this time.” severus said.

it flattered you greatly, but you had yourself frowning at his doubt.

“you really are something off a classic book. with the way you speak and how beautiful you are to me.” you said as you giggled softly.

“of course, i stay with you always. you really are the one i love. you do so much for me. but you don’t see it sometimes. but here i am…to let you know of that. you, my sweetheart are everything and more. you are so deserving of love severus. i hope you know that i’ll be there to remind you of such. everyday.” you said.

severus’ eyes had been screaming of love, as your expressions filled with bliss and happiness made him feel content.

his hands were placed at your waist as he pulled you closer, hugging you tightly. you did nothing but smile more and more, his bitter scent was so appealing to you as you rested your weary head on severus’ chest.

“oh…is my poor dove tired?” severus asked.

you only nodded, feeling the weight of your eyelids droop heavier. you could do with a nap, after singlehandedly teaching all those students of yours. sometimes you didn’t realize how much hogwarts had required of you.

his fingers made small circles at your back as you didn’t move from the position you were in. severus smiled, for once. not a small smirk, but a smile that beamed ever so blissfully.

“come on y/n, i think you should rest somewhere more comfortable. can you stand for me princess?” he asked.

you only mumbled something that had seemed reminiscent of the word ‘yes’ so you slowly got up as severus put everything in the basket and lifted you in his arms and using his wandless magic to send the basket to the quarters.

“you might need to hold on tight my dear.” he spoke.

you had both apparated to the chambers you shared, he had placed you in the bed and tucked you in, he had slowly followed suit.

“is it naptime?” you mumbled.

severus chuckled deeply; you were perfect for him. “yes, now close your eyes sweetheart. i’ll be here once you wake up.” severus answered.

you buried your head into his chest as he then kissed the top of your head. his mind pondering about you, you were the true gift for him.

he wanted to cherish you if he could, and if you were happy being with him then he didn’t object.

you really did love him.

“rest well, my y/n. i love you.”

[idy-ll-ique]

Paparazzi.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: TOO META, m*sturbation, mentions of s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me... Y/N Y/L/N writes Marvel fanfictions. One day, Sebastian stumbles upon her account and, unable to help himself, reads all the stuff she has written about him. He didn't mean to fall so hard for her but he does. How can he not? She has shown him parts of himself that he never even knew existed.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so a few weeks ago I read a similar (but dark) fanfic and I really wanted to write a softer version of it... Enjoy!

---

Same old, boring routine.

Y/N hit post and slumped against the headrest of her bed, sighing. She waited; a minute, then two passed and she noticed that someone had liked her post. She smiled to herself as she kept her phone away. Though boring, she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Y/N… well, she was a university student first and foremost but she was also a writer.

Being a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she had started writing fanfictions a few years ago. She posted them on Tumblr, where her blog, though not very well-known, stood out enough for her posts to get around 800-1000 likes per post. She loved it; she loved writing, she loved posting her stories and especially, she loved the feedback.

Sometimes people were rude, but most times, the reviews she got were fantastic. She read each and every one of them, smiling goofily as people freaked out over her fanfictions. It warmed her heart. A smile automatically blooming on her face, Y/N lay down on the bed and decided to go to sleep, it being almost 3 am.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else was up at the same time, tossing and turning in his bed, restless.

Sebastian sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He drank some water and lay down again, closing his eyes but it was like sleep was mad at him. Refused to be anywhere near him. He groaned to himself and picked up his phone from the nightstand, deciding to go through Instagram, hoping he'd finally fall asleep to the glare of the screen.

As he logged into his account, he skipped the activity page and went straight to the explore page. Bored, he continued scrolling until his eyes landed on a specific photo. And the breath escaped his lungs when he clicked on it; the woman in the picture was absolutely gorgeous. He just couldn't resist going to her page, smiling widely when he read her bio.

It gave him her basic information; her name, her age, the university she attended. But what caught his eye was the link below the bio. My Marvel Fanfictions Master List. Marvel fanfictions? She was a writer? Smirking, he clicked on the link and it took him to Tumblr. Of course, he'd heard of the site, but didn't have an account on there. At 3 am, his mind sure wasn't working right.

A post popped up on the screen, the same master list she had mentioned earlier. And his eyes bulged out of their sockets; damn, those are a lot of fanfictions. He went through the whole thing, smirking again when he noticed that she had written the most fanfictions about him. Not Bucky Barnes, no, Sebastian Stan.

He clicked on the first one. The date of posting was way back, in 2019. He started reading; nothing about it felt weird to him; he was intrigued, if anything. And as he continued reading, he couldn't help but imagine her being in the stead of the female protagonist. Her, the writer. The woman whose picture had made him end up reading in the first place.

When he finished the story, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. Wow, she really has a way with words. And he had also noticed how in the author's note, she used a lot of slang but reading the story had made him realize that she had an amazing, extensive vocabulary. He went back to the master list and clicked on the latest post under his name.

Posted: 15 minutes ago.

His breath hitched in his throat when he read the warnings: there was going to be sexual intercourse in this one. For one moment, he hesitated; did he really want to read this? "Oh fuck it," he huffed and scrolled, starting to read. The more he read, the more his shaft twitched in his pants. He wasn't really like that during… but oh damn, he wasn't complaining.

"Oh, Seb…"

His hand slid down and he rubbed himself through his boxers, unable to take his eyes off the text in front of him. His strokes got harder and faster as the sex got steamier. "Ungh, I'm gonna cum—" And he suddenly came in his boxers, groaning. Slumping down on the bed, he quickly finished reading the rest of it, going back to the master list.

He took a screenshot with the account's name in it and then went back to her Instagram account to take another screenshot. Keeping his phone away, he slipped out of his boxers, cleaned himself and pulled the covers on top of him, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

---

Y/N was walking across the campus of her university, going to the cafeteria when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Taking it out, she opened Tumblr to read the message someone had sent her just then.

his-username: Hi there! I was binging your account last night, you write really well

your-username: Omg thank you!!!! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback! 🥺❤

his-username: You're welcome! Especially your latest post, that was really good ;)

your-username: hehe 😈 glad you liked it!

Smiling widely, she kept her phone away and continued walking, not knowing that the person who had texted her was the same man she had written about. Sebastian smiled to himself when he read her text. After getting up in the morning, the first thing he had done was install Tumblr on his phone. Then he made an account for himself.

Figuring out the app was easy; he found out that there was an option to keep your liked posts and the accounts you followed hidden, and selected it immediately. No one needed to know what he did on the app. Then he went back to her account, pressed the follow button and started binge-reading her fanfictions again. Last night had he read only two, and that had left him wanting more.

Funny how much things can change in a night. He liked and reblogged all her posts without a second thought; he even read all her Bucky Barnes posts. She understood his character so well, put him on what he thought was an undeserved pedestal while writing about him. Some of the stories were AUs, which he found out stood for Alternate Universes. Mostly mobster or mafia stuff.

He had the day off, and he spent the entire time cooped up in his apartment, on his bed, reading. The more he read, the more he started fawning over her, over the version of him that she put out to the world. Dominating, suave and just perfect. He loved it. At the end of the day, he decided to text her again, hoping she wouldn't think he was weird or find out the truth.

his-username: do you wanna be friends, maybe? I'm new to the app, don't really have any friends here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a lie, he knew Mark Ruffalo had an active Tumblr account. But it's not like he could tell him.

your-username: Yes sure!!!! I was also thinking of making some friends on this app lol

his-username: You don't have any on here? But you've been here for years, haven't you?

your-username: haha yeah, but I don't really reach out to people much. Sometimes people leave their feedbacks on my posts, text me but that's that

his-username: Ohhh

his-username: well, let's start with names. Mine's Sebastian

your-username: Really?????? omg that's so cool lmaooooooo (didn't think you were a boy but 😳👀)

his-username: Not a boy, I'm a man 😤😂

your-username: 🤣 im y/n, btw

his-username: Y/N, that's a nice name

your-username: thank you!!!! So, what do you do?

his-username: nothing really that interesting, I'm in theatre

your-username: theatre is nice! I'm studying at [university] in New York lmao

his-username: Wait you're in New York? So am I!

your-username: ASDFHKSHKGF that's awesome!!! also I noticed that you've been going through my account the whole day 😏 notifications upon notifications keeping my phone busy

his-username: Oopsie?

your-username: 😂😂 I really don't mind, it was great! Despite the amount of likes on my posts, I only have a few loyal followers lmao gaining one more felt nice

your-username: You a big fan of Sebastian Stan? Cuz I noticed that you were only reading his and Bucky's fics 👀

Sebastian's face heated up.

his-username: kinda yeah 🤷🏻‍♂️😁

your-username: Cool cool cool, I'm a big fan of his too!!!! also got a crush on him but whatever 😳

Sebastian smirked at his phone. A crush on him, huh? That… was acceptable. He suddenly felt his cocky side coming out; the one she described in nearly all her fanfictions.

his-username: wouldn't blame ya, I mean, look at him. You have also written the most fics about him and Bucky

your-username: right????? damn that man has raised my standards. Anyway, I gtg now, I have to finish a paper before midnight. ttyl!

his-username: Bye! 👋🏻

He kept his phone away and took in a deep breath. This was the most fun he had had in years, and he was not letting her go so easy. He realized he was quickly falling for her; rather unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. Look at her. She looks like a goddamn angel, writes like one, makes him feel like one, do you really expect him not to fall for her? That's insane.

---

Months passed by like a breeze. Y/N and Sebastian had become very good friends, and he knew his way around words just enough to keep her from finding out his identity while not lying to her. Y/N also appreciated his friendship, because he was the one to whom she could rant about her most favorite man in the world— Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes, she thought about how weird of a coincidence it was that her new friend and the actor shared the same names, but then she used to brush it off; that was a common name, right? They talked for hours on end; Sebastian (her friend, not the actor) was extremely witty, smart and fun to talk to, she had to admit. Sebastian felt the same way.

His feelings had worsened. Y/N entirely owned his heart now. Somedays, he'd just go on Instagram, go to her account— her username memorized by him— and stare at her photos until he grew tired; he'd never get tired of looking at her beautiful face but his stiff body afterwards begged to differ. She was just so Elysian. He longed for the moment when he could meet her in real life.

His personality had also changed majorly, and people had caught on. Especially his Marvel co-stars, who knew him to be introverted, shy and, in Anthony Mackie's words, "boring". They were surprised at his sudden change in attitude; he knew his worth and Y/N had helped tremendously in finding it. Now, all those adjectives that she used in her fanfictions fit him perfectly.

Sebastian was never tempted to read fanfictions about himself from authors other than Y/N. No, he only loved her work. He was sure no one else could write as beautifully as she did, he was her #1 fan. Y/N even sent him funny Marvel memes she found on the app and he used to enjoy them heartily; God, the others have no idea what they're missing out on. Our fans are awesome.

Everything was going well.

Until one day.

Sebastian was getting bored at home, so he decided to go to the nearby library to clear his mind. He had read not one book in the past few months, hung up on Y/N's fanfictions. At this point, he was obsessed with her and he knew it. It was nothing dark, per se, it was— it was similar to how Y/N was attracted to Sebastian. How she was a fan of his work.

Just the same. He was a fan of her work in the same way. Just how she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her. Walking into the library that he visited often, he gave the librarian a smile and ventured further into the dark place. He checked his watch; the library closed at 12 am, it was currently 9:30 pm.

Not many people were around, heck, nobody was around. He thought himself to be all alone until he heard it. A sigh, coming from a few aisles away. He walked in that direction and peeked around the corner, freezing when he saw the other person. Y/N? Her books were strewn all across the table as she sat alone at the booth, rubbing her temples.

"You okay?"

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. I'm dreaming. This is not real. Now I know for a fact that Sebastian Stan is not standing in front of me, asking me if I'm— "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I, uh— I'm— h-hi," she stammered and he almost chuckled. "Hi." She gulped visibly and blinked at the table, not meeting his eyes.

"Can I have a seat?" He wants to sit with me?! "Y-Yes, sure, sir," she blurted out and he easily slid into the booth next to her. "Hey, please, call me Sebastian. What's your name?" He gave her a friendly smile, even though all he wanted to do was push her back into the booth and kiss her wildly. His shaft twitched just by thinking about it; Y/N was a thousand times more beautiful in person.

"I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you, I'm… I'm a fan," she admitted, playing with the ring she wore on her left thumb. I'm your fan too, sweetheart, the biggest one. "Y/N, nice name. You come here often? I haven't really seen you around." She shook her head. "Oh no no, I moved to this part of the city just a week ago, this is my first time here. The library is cozy," she shrugged, easing out of her tense position.

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, I know, this place is awesome. Got all my favorite books here," he chuckled and she smiled at him. "What's all this?" A groan left her lips. "Ugh, stupid university work. I have to write a book report but I don't even know what to write about." He smiled gently. "Well, I have a few favorite books, would you like some suggestions?"

"Oh, please! Tell me!"

He started listing some of his favorite works and Y/N noted the names down until he said the last name. At that, she froze. That's the name of my latest— She looked up but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, and the last one is by my favorite author." He took a pause. "Y/N Y/L/N." She froze completely, staring at the man with her jaw dropped.

Sebastian grinned. "We finally meet, Y/N, I've been waiting for months." Her mouth opened and closed several times as she recalled every interaction she had had with her online best friend— scratch that— her celebrity crush. All the times she had confessed her love for Sebastian Stan, all the dirty and inappropriate memes that she'd sent him…

Embarrassment flooded her entire body as she exhaled shakily. "It was you," she croaked out, "On Tumblr, the account— I'm so sorry—" Sebastian frowned in confusion when she blinked back sudden tears, a few still rolling down her cheeks as shame replaced embarrassment. "Y/N, please don't cry…" She looked up at him, his figure blurry due to her tears.

"You've read everything, haven't you? I just— I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable—" He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Y/N couldn't hug back, though she appreciated the hug especially since it came from him. "You don't know how much you mean to me, doll," he mumbled into her shoulder, using the nickname she often used in the stories she wrote about him. He grew accustomed to it easily.

"Huh?"

He pulled away to wipe her tears. "It was an accident," he admitted, "But I stumbled onto your Instagram account from my explore page. Then I clicked on your account, saw that you wrote Marvel fanfictions and I just couldn't resist the urge to read what you had written. Blame it on 3 am me, to be honest. You're a great writer, and I was immediately drawn to your works. They're awesome.

"They've helped me so much in the past few months. You see this changed attitude that everyone's been talking about lately? All because of you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for keeping my identity secret, but after reading your works, I knew I had to get closer to you. I made the Tumblr account just for you, just so I could talk to you. I'm sorry for lying, but thank you."

Y/N dumbfoundedly stared at him for a few moments, her heart beat getting steady with each thump. Here was a man she admired, loved more than anyone else in the world, telling her that he harbored the same feelings for her. How crazy was that?! Not trusting her words, she simply pulled him into another hug. Sebastian wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Can I kiss you, doll?"

She slowly pulled away from him and nodded, shyly biting her lip. Grinning at the endearing gesture, Sebastian cupped her face and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss grew hungry in a matter of seconds, and Y/N responded just as eagerly. His hands slid down to her waist and tugged on it, pulling her on his lap. She straddled his thighs as they continued kissing.

"Fuck," he groaned when they finally pulled away from each other, out of breath and panting. "You see what you do to me, doll?" Sebastian spoke huskily as he took her hand, placing it right on top of the tent that was forming in his pants. "Oh," Y/N whimpered when she felt him, the sound going straight to his shaft. "How about I take you home and we recreate some of the scenes from your stories, hm?"

"O-Okay."

"Good girl."

---

A/N: What a meta experience 🤡 Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[glassfullofsass]

hey, so I *have* been thinking about this since you responded...8 months ago 😓. In addition to *handwaves vaguely at everything* life, this is very much a Big Screen topic and I spend very, very little non-work time on a big screen. So, we're doing this on my phone. Pardon the brevity 🙃. I did read the linked posts, but im responding here because mutuals.

1- PTSD and death "being kinder". I know better. I have a bad habit of forgetting to contextualize fiction and getting way too invested in the plot and I know that about myself. I even know *enough* about PTSD & how it's often misportrayed, and entirely ignored that in favor of the emotional payoff. With McCabe's gun in play, this should absolutely send warning signals about the reality of how guns work in response to mental health crises. There are definitely other ways for the resolution to have come about.

As for Arkady's "mercy kill", I think the show could handle it better/more thoroughly (ie, with less approval from others), but that it *is* in character for Arkady and how she understands/experiences the world. Tbh, it'd probably be a more interesting story if she & the rest of the crew had to dig deeper into this to reconcile the reality of living with those injuries vs being dead.

And with Jeeter, I can add nothing, just say again that I know better and that you're right...digging deeper into accomodations would be helpful in the long run. (Also, its been a minute, but Jeeter is the one that says he'd be in the way, right? The generative narrative would be for Sana to reply with "accommodating you would teach us how to accommodate others. If you are concerned about your health and easy access to supplies, that is understandable, but don't let your anxiety trick you into thinking you are a burden").

The other big topic tunedtostatic brings up is creator/fan interaction. Im running very short on spoons now, but I'll just echo that, yeah, the internet, and especially tumblr, really allows a lot more overlap. Personally, I don't love fans having this much access to creators (I can think of a dozen examples of creators getting relentlessly hounded about their work because it was their vision and tmnot their fans'. Can we all revisit the very premise of fanfic, please?). I also don't love creators have so much access to me. I feel like im being watched, and frankly creators responding to my posts has driven me out of at least one fandom.

And here's the thing. I'm a big audiodrama listener, but music feeds my soul. I'm Instagram mutuals (idk that that's really a thing, but you know what I mean) with a couple of small artists. I've been to their shows often enough that they know me on sight, and at least two of them know me by name. I don't mind if they heart my posts of cats and flowers and shows. I heart their posts of cats and flowers and shows. I feel like that's a relatively healthy creator/fan relationship.

On tumblr, I'm posting critiques and fics and headcanons. Sure, I'm also posting "go listen to this show its so good", but even those posts include me digging into my feelings and thoughts. I don't need the writer of that show to reblog it with their commentary. I know TMA had a "no creators" tag for a while, though I don't recall the specifics. If it worked, maybe we should take that model and apply it liberally across all fandoms.

I'm gonna start TSCoSI again because I've been thinking about it for weeks, but @falderaletcetera you had some Thoughts about Arkady and McCabe and the trauma of it all in the s2 finale that I'd love to hear more of if you'll allow me to prompt you.

Sorry for not asking when you mentioned it, things got away from me, but it's definitely been on my mind.