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wordsinhaled · 3 months ago

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hi there! I started following you after seeing your essay-long answers to DBD things in tags, and it made me very happy to see someone as deeply analytical as me about this show.

I wanted to ask you: if you were given the final say, how would you want the show to confirm both Charles' bisexuality and his romantic feelings towards Edwin (as both can be done at different points)?

Personally, I can't get the idea out of my head that it will be done with some kind of tragic goodbye, somehow Charles and Edwin have to separate, and Charles either verbally confirms it or kisses Edwin goodbye. Not saying that's what I want, but it's what I expect the writers to do.

Hope you're having a good day.

btw, would love to hear you talk more about timerogue (Fifteen/Rogue), I need more essay-long analysis about those two.

Hi there! <3 I am so happy you have enjoyed my tag rambles! And thank you so much for asking this great question, I had a lot of fun thinking through it!

I have many thoughts on this! Sticking them under a cut eventually because it is a long post!

Re: Charles' bisexuality: So the thing is I think that the DBDA universe generally seems to eschew labels in favor of showing rather than telling the audience what the characters' identities are. For example Jenny is interested in dating women, which is clear from her dialogue, and she goes on a date with Maxine, but she's never labeled anything. Edwin is never labeled anything by anyone in the narrative, either, but the narrative shows us that his only love interests and his desires and romantic feelings are for other boys. I would argue that we have been shown textually that Charles is bi, already, the same way the show shows-not-tells us other things. Charles by the end of the first season feels bi enough to me in a way that just feels like someone... living a bi life, and not yet realizing they might in fact be in love back with their best friend. I don't know how else to put it but I hope that makes sense. (My alternate, slightly sappier version of canon is that Charles fell for Edwin the first night, but has shoved it down for the duration of their friendship, but the former feels more likely as the direction I think we see on screen.) We are being told Charles is bi:

In the way Charles himself draws parallels between why he likes Crystal (his romantic love interest) and Edwin, pointing out they share the exact same traits

In the way he gives Crystal and Edwin the same genre of deep, loving gaze

In the way he thinks Crystal is fit, and he checks Edwin out, on multiple occasions, but only flirts with Edwin overtly in episode 8 ("My smile is pretty convincing," plus more than the usual amount of physical touch/proximity and less plausible deniability) once he can be assured by Edwin's recent confession that doing so will not be poorly received

In the different kinds of softness and masculinity he displays around both Crystal and Edwin

In the way that, despite not knowing the ending, he draws a parallel between himself and Edwin & a pair of lovers from classical mythology as though it is the most natural thing in the world to bring up the story of Orpheus & Eurydice, making overt the romantic potential of his relationship with Edwin

In the way he is so quick to write off that the two jocks were "just best mates" the way a person does when they are recognizing their own queerness in themselves and have to keep themselves safe from it, because of the environment that they are in (Charles being the Sports Lad, needing to fit in with other sports lads, and needing to avoid the censure/violence of his father)

And coming off the above, in the way that Charles navigates along the toughness-sensitivity spectrum within the social constructs of being "the brawn"

In the entire sparring scene in episode 1, tbh. The rituals are very intricate /drops mic

I understand the importance that's been placed by fandom spaces on "confirmed canon" queerness that is spelled out in so many words, given a label that can be pointed to to say "This character is definitely this!" but I think (and this is just my personal opinion) it can be reductive sometimes, and I don't really want Charles to label himself in that kind of way, just as much as I don't think the other characters needed the labels to "confirm" the queerness of their relationships or indeed of the show; having him be the one to do it for being bi would set him apart. I also think taking into account the time period that he grew up in, Charles would care more about living by the truth of how he feels and how he can use those feelings to connect with the one he loves, than what to call it. I just don't think we're gonna get like a "Hello my name is Charles Rowland and I am a verified bisexual"-type scene in season 2, and I think that's okay, and I don't really think that's the way for the show to 'confirm' it. Mind you I would love to see Charles talk about how it makes him feel to realize his feelings, and how his feelings for Edwin are different compared to how other people make him feel, because god, I love Charles so much and I just know such a scene would both destroy and heal me. FEEL YOUR FEELINGS, CHARLES <3

I think it says something really important that many, many, many people took one look at Charles Rowland and said: "Oh, he's bi." Not like... he has bi energy, or could plausibly be bi, or whatever; for so many people he just resonated as being bi, in a very organic way. (I know there are people who do read Charles as being straight/having rejected Edwin in s1, and I respect that, but they probably will not like my ideas about Charles very much, then, tbh.)

For what it's worth, though, Jayden's acting choices playing Charles, and the way Jayden (and George) have addressed the 'straight best friend Charles' line of questioning during interviews, both make it seem to me that Jayden is intentionally playing Charles as bi and we are already supposed to understand this for what it is, based on Charles' actions—just as we understand similar things about other characters inner worlds we are shown. Whether Charles is consciously aware of it yet is more the up-for-debate part to me, personally. It's like he is dancing right on the edge of the revelation, or something, but his actions (and his EYES) are speaking for him pretty loudly already.

As for how he confirms it more obviously? Hmm. Well, I'll admit i think a kiss between them would be lovely, if only because I think it would quite possibly be the Most Kiss a kiss could be, with all of Charles' tenderness and adoration for Edwin poured into it. I also think it would be in-character, given Charles canonically misses kissing, and wants to do it with people he's interested in romantically (see Crystal).

Charles struggles with being able to admit romantic feelings out loud because he is scared of his own capacity to hurt Edwin; after all the only example of "romantic" love he has seen was his parents' marriage. Charles is a person who acts first, thinks later, but in this process of understanding what he feels for Edwin he's taking his time and being the opposite of impulsive. This shows how important his relationship to Edwin is to him and his commitment to Getting It Right. Even with that deliberateness, though, I think it would still be easier for him to express himself through a tangible action like a kiss than through words—at least at first.

It reminds me of this scene from the first draft of Maurice between Maurice and Alec. Alec is struggling to verbalize his feelings for Maurice, although he does know he feels them. He can say other things, but naming love for what it is is the challenge; and in the end they use a shared memory of a time Alec showed his love through actions (running through the rosebushes just to see Maurice's face) to communicate and mutually understand their love for each other. Similarly, Charles finds it difficult to admit a deep romantic love aloud, but his actions speak louder, in his determination to retrieve Edwin from hell ("There's no one else—no one else—I would go to hell for") and he can allude to the romantic implications of the act, by referencing the Orpheus & Eurydice myth. It similarly becomes, I may not be able to say the words, but you and I both know the lengths i would go to for you.

Maurice : "I love you, sir be damned." Alec: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel." Maurice: "I don't want to hear that." Alec: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?" M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled."

As far as the catalyst for Charles revealing his feelings... a tragic goodbye—gosh, as heartbreakingly compelling as I know seeing George and Jayden act that out would be (I know they would crush it), I really hope the writers don't do that to them! The thing about Payneland that is so refreshing to me is how they manage to subvert trope expectations and break out of the tragic narratives they are placed in, and I think they would ultimately defy any attempt at separation. As Edwin says, "I will make sure that doesn't happen," about them ever being split up. I am rooting for a happily ever after for them, because they have both been through enough, and have fought tooth and nail to stay together.

Steve Yockey has mentioned potentially having Desire of the Endless cameo on the show and I also think having them and Charles interact would be a fascinating way to bring to light some of the deep-rooted stuff Charles struggles with around love (and would nicely parallel Edwin's experience with the Cat King which catalyzed his Charles-feelings realization). I also like the idea of the team maybe meeting a couple during a case who parallel Edwin and Charles and are romantically involved. Seeing that would allow Charles to externalize the way he feels for Edwin by seeing it reflected back to him by other people; sometimes things are easier to pick up on in others than in ourselves. I think that would be a fun way to get him to see what's been there under the surface for some time :)

Oh my god this got so long asfhlgkjhg SORRY

(I'm sure the Doccy Who fixation will come back in time for the Christmas special! :D)

#dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #payneland #charles rowland

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linorachas · 2 years ago

Text

skz maknae line + different types of kisses

tags: fluff. slightly suggestive in hj's part. again wrote this entire thing in my notes app

hyung line version :3 | read on ao3 | buy me a coffee?

HYUNJIN (thighs)

You find Hyunjin in the living room at midnight.

You're a little bit tipsy, having drunk a few beers over the course of Changbin's birthday celebration. The slight buzz in your veins leaves you restless, and you become hyper aware of one thing: your boyfriend wasn't beside you.

So when you slip out the kitchen— narrowly escaping Minho's drunken ramblings about kimchi fried rice— Hyunjin's blonde head is easy to spot. He's leaning against the bottom of the couch, laughing at something Jeongin was saying.

And, as if you were connected by some string, Hyunjin looks up at the same time you step out, looking directly at you.

He smiles. You fall in love all over again.

"Y/N!" He calls you, excitedly waving you over.

You're quick to comply, rushing over and plopping yourself onto the empty space of the couch behind him. Hyunjin wiggles and squirms until he's settled between your legs.

He leans his head back, looking at you upside down, and grins. "Hi."

"Hi," you giggle, brushing his long hair away from his face. "Are you drunk?"

"Not drunk." He mumbles, then turns around so he can bury his face in your lap. "Just happy to see you. You left me alone."

"If I remember, someone wanted to go chase Jisung around the quad. That someone wasn't me."

Hyunjin laughs. With his position and your outfit, his lips brush against your skin with every huff. You squirm.

Hyunjin looks up at the action, one eyebrow raised. "What?"

Ears red, you squeak, "Nothing."

But Hyunjin is already suspicious. He rests his chin on your thigh and squints. You pointedly avoid his gaze.

"Baby..." he whines, and his breath ghosts against your skin again. You make a noise. "You know I don't like it when you hide stuff."

Hyunjin pouts. Your eyes automatically fall to the the jut of his bottom lip; red, plump, and so fucking kissable. It made you feel faint for it to be so close to where you wanted it to be.

You look away quickly, but you still must have stared for a second too long though, because Hyunjin suddenly smirks, seemingly having put two and two together.

"I'm not hiding anything." You huff. Hyunjin tongues his cheek.

"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I..."

As he spoke, Hyunjin's head slowly went down. You tense as he goes higher and higher up your thigh, his lips brushing against the tensed muscle.

And, as if that wasn't enough to put you into cardiac arrest, the worst happens.

Hyunjin looks up at you through his lashes, keeping eye contact. He parts his lips, slow and sultry, then presses a kiss onto the inside of your thigh.

You suck in a sharp breath. Arousal tingles down your spine.

But then Hyunjin yelps, jerking away from you, and you snap at out of your daze and remember you're in public. Hyunjin is whining into your lap again, rubbing the back of his head. You look up to see Changbin walking away.

"No funny business on my birthday!" He shouts as he leaves, and you snort. Hyunjin huffs, irritated, and rests his chin on your thigh again.

You meet his gaze. His eyes darken, and he purposely makes his lips brush against your thigh again when he says,

"We'll continue this later."

JISUNG (flying kiss)

"Y/N!!!!!!"

Jisung wails as he gets dragged away by the waist by Changbin. You laugh from your place on porch, dramatically reaching a hand out.

"Jisung-ah! Noooo!"

"Don't encourage him." Seungmin huffs beside you, but there's a smile on his face as he takes out his phone and starts recording. You roll your eyes.

Jisung flails in Changbin's hold. "Don't take me away! I need to be with the love of my life!"

"Jesus christ, shut up." Chan groans from the driver seat, head out the window. "You're seeing each other again in an hour."

"An hour too long!"

"And it's about to be longer when I knock you out. Get insi- ow! Did you just bite me!"

Changbin squawks, letting go of Jisung to rub at his arm. Jisung grins triumphantly, ready to bolt, but Chan manages to reach out and grab the back of his shirt before he can get away.

"Oh, no you don't! Get inside, Jisung! We're going to be late for our gig!"

You laugh as the three argue on the sidewalk. The sound catches Jisung's attention, making him halt from where he was about to bite Changbin again. He visibly softens.

You smile shyly. "Get going, Sungie. I'll catch up with you in a bit, okay? I gotta dress up real nice so everyone knows you're with the hottest babe in the room."

Jisung scoffs, lips twitching. "You could come in your pajamas and you'd still be the hottest babe in the world."

At this point, you were as red as a tomato. Seungmin makes fake gagging noises beside you. Chan and Changbin use the opportunity to wrestle Jisung inside the car.

Jisung still lets out verbal protests, but doesn't struggle anymore. As soon as the car door shuts, he's rolling the window down, pout on his face.

"I'm going to miss you!"

"In the hour that I'll be away?"

"I miss you even when we're together! I miss you right now!"

"We're going! Starting the car, leaving!" Chan exclaims over Jisung's loud declarations of love and Changbin's scolding, trying to tug Jisung inside by his shirt. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Just as the car starts, Jisung suddenly brings his palm up to his lips and says, "Y/N! Catch!"

He throws you a kiss.

You shriek with laughter as you jump to "catch" the kiss, making a show of putting it in your pocket as Jisung sends kiss after kiss. You're both giggling, sending heart eyes at each other from the short distance of the porch to the car. Despite their insistence to get going, Chan and Changbin watch fondly.

And when they finally leave, Jisung is still sending kisses, even when they're already far down the road.

Heart bursting, you still catch them.

FELIX (nose)

Flour was everywhere.

Who ever said baking was easy needed to get their ass beat, you were one measuring spoon away from collapsing down on the ground and crying.

You had been focusing on the recipe so much, double checking every detail, that you didn't notice the bag of flour slowly slipping from your hands. It lands on the counter with a soft splat. A cloud of white envelopes all of your senses.

And of course, it's at that moment that Felix walks in the kitchen. He blinks at you, covered in flour. He blinks at the mess of ingredients and materials on the counter. He blinks at you again.

Then, his lips slowly curl up. You let out a loud groan.

"Don't laugh! Shut up!"

"I'm not," Felix says through giggles. "I'm not laughing at you, it's just-"

"Haha, whatever. See if I ever bake you a cake again. I don't get how you even have the patience to do all this."

"Well, I am with you. Takes a lot of patience for that."

"Yah-" You gasp, glaring, but you probably looked stupid with flour all over your face. Felix just confirms it by laughing even harder.

"Lix," you start to whine, feeling the embarrassment creep up on you. You just wanted to make a stupid cake for your stupid boyfriend. He had made baking look so easy, and yet-

Felix finally stifles his giggles, clearing his throat as he walks over to you. There's still a sheen of amusement in his eyes though, especially when he cups your face in his hands. You pout up at him.

"Baking is hard."

"I know."

"And expensive."

"It is."

You sniffle. "I wanted to bake you a cake."

"Don't be sad," Felix coos, smushing your face. "We can still bake one together."

"But I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I'm already surprised." Felix snickers, eyeing your flour covered form, and you hiss as you pinch his waist. He yelps, but doesn't stop smiling.

"You're so mean."

"And you're so cute." Felix whispers. You feel the tips of your ears burn. "Oh, the flour missed a spot."

You frown, about to ask where, but then Felix leans in and brushes his lips against your nose.

His eyes are sparkly when he pulls away, and your heart rabbits in your chest.

"You-" you fume, because why would he do that, you looked stupid, why does he look at you like you're the cutest thing on earth, why isn't he mad you messed up his kitchen, "Why-"

"I love you." He says, like it was that simple. Maybe it was. "You tried to bake a cake for me even though you know nothing about being in a kitchen. You're so cute, and I love you."

"Well, I-!" You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat. "I... love you too. But I'm not fucking doing this again."

Felix snorts and brushes flour away from your cheeks. "Don't worry, baby. I'll do the baking for the both of us. You don't need to bake, you're already a treat, anyway."

You pinch his waist again. Felix laughs.

SEUNGMIN (cheeks)

As far as first dates go, this one was probably the best.

You hadn't thought Seungmin would be such a romantic. He had picked you up the traditional way and waited outside your apartment even though he's got a spare key. He had brought flowers and even waited outside until you put them in a vase. He took you to your favorite spots because you already knew his, and he just wanted you to enjoy the night. He holds your hand after brushing against it a couple times, and takes off his jacket to put it on you when you start to shiver from the cold night.

You were floored. This was Seungmin, your best friend since you were a child, putting all leading men to shame. Never in a million years did you think he would ever like you back, but now here he was, making sure you were the happiest person on earth. Your heart swells.

You both didn't want the night to end. Your hands stay intertwined even on the bus on the way back home, on the elevator, and outside your door.

You lean against the door as Seungmin stands in front of you, your intertwined hands hanging between you.

"You should go inside." He says, but he doesn't pull his hand away. If anything, his grip tightens. You bite back a smile.

"I should." You reply. "I don't want to."

Seungmin lets out a little laugh at that, but you both fall silent after it. You're just gazing into each other's eyes, not quite believing how you got here.

Just last week, you were ignoring each other. Thinking your feelings were unrequited, you had to take a back and distance yourself from Seungmin to stop getting your hopes up, while Seungmin, on the other hand, thought you had found out about his feelings and were avoiding him.

It took a lot of cold shoulders, misunderstandings, and longing looks across the room for you to get here, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

You're just about to ask if he wanted to come inside when you hear it: hushed voices talking from behind the door.

"Did they kiss yet?"

"Shhh! Shut up! I can't hear them!"

"Can you move? I can't see through the peephole with your big head-"

You press your lips together, annoyed. Seungmin must have heard it too because he rolls his eyes, looking up at the heavens like it would spare him.

"Minho said he wasn't going to be home tonight." You whisper, and Seungmin huffs.

"You know the hyungs. They can't sleep if we're not safe at home after a date."

"I went on a date with you."

"And I went on a date with you. We're best friends! Not strangers." Seungmin massages his head with his other hand. "I can't believe them."

"What are they talking about? I can't hear."

"I just heard best friends. Shit, are they fighting again?"

"They can't fight. I have a betting pool with the maknaes that they're going to kiss tonight."

Yours and Seungmin's eyes widen. A betting pool?! Those motherfuckers-

Seriously? You mouth to Seungmin, whose lips were twitching.

Sorry, he mouths back. I don't know why it's funny.

You roll your eyes, but you can't deny the smile that crawling up your lips too. At the sight, Seungmin's own smile widens.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head.

Steeling yourself, you step forward. Seungmin's eyes widen a bit from how close you were now, almost chest to chest with him. He looks at you, confused, but you still catch the way his eyes drift down to your lips. You lean in, tilt your head, and-

"Are they really-"

"It's happening!"

"Move your head!"

You kiss his cheek.

At the same time, you turn the doorknob and pull. Three bodies fall though the door, groaning as they fall on top of each other.

Pulling away from Seungmin, you raise a brow at the three eldest. Chan and Changbin point to Minho.

"It was his idea." They say at the same time. Minho squawks. "Hey!"

You huff, turning around to get help in scolding them from Seungmin, but when you face him, Seungmin is in a daze. His fingers are pressing into his cheek, right at the spot you kissed him. He's red all the way up to the tips of his ears. Your eyes widen.

"Y/N, I think you broke him."

JEONGIN (lips)

"Does Jeongin hate me?"

"Considering he's your boyfriend..." Chan frowns. "I would hope not? What's this about?"

"This is about him not kissing me." You huff. "We've been dating for a month. And it's not like he doesn't want to kiss me, either! I've seen him looking at my lips!"

"So your first logical conclusion is that he hates you?"

You knew you sounded ridiculous. But you were frustrated and in dire need of Jeongin kisses. Logic be damned. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Maybe he just loves you so much that he's too shy to kiss you." Chan shrugs, turning back to his phone. "Oh, they're here."

Just as Chan finishes speaking, the door to the arcade opens, and in comes the rest of the boys. They were busy chatting and laughing amongst themselves, but Jeongin immediately spots you and makes his way over.

"Hi, you." He greets with a loving smile, arms wide open, and any doubt that littered your mind earlier disappears as you melt into his arms.

You look up at him, chin on his chest. He looks down at you and brushes away the strand of hair that's fallen in front of your eyes.

And because he's Jeongin and he's your best friend and your boyfriend who knows you like the back of his hand, he asks, "What's wrong?"

You blink. Behind you, Chan snickers. You pull away from Jeongin to shoot Chan a glare, before turning back to Jeongin with a smile.

"Nothing. Come on, let's go to the karaoke."

Jeongin clearly doesn't believe it, but when you hold your hand out, he takes it and follows wherever you drag him to.

It's only when it's late at night and you've all exhausted yourselves playing games that it gets brought up again. You're all hanging around in the parking lot of some convenience store. The other boys are gathered around Minho's truck, fighting for snacks and prizes won at the arcade. You and Jeongin sit on the sidewalk and make fun of them.

"Minho hyung already has that keychain at home. Why does he want it so bad?"

You snort. "He wants it because Seungmin and Jisung want it. Who is he if he doesn't annoy his dongsaengs."

Jeongin laughs at that, leaning into you as he does so. You grin and gently bonk your head against his.

He makes a noise at that, looking up. You hadn't pulled away by then, so the action has you and Jeongin merely inches from each other.

He was so close you could count his lashes. You swallow as his gaze drop down to your lips. Hope is a flame that ignites in your chest again, expecting, but it gets extinguished when Jeongin looks away with a clear of his throat.

Your shoulders slump. The words are out before you can stop them. "Do you hate me?"

"Huh?" Jeongin's gaze snaps back to you, eyes wide in confusion. You falter. "Y/N, what are you talking about?"

God, you sound ridiculous. You knew you were being ridiculous. But you've already started and you couldn't find it in you to turn back. Fuck it, you think. You can lose a little dignity for a Jeongin kiss.

"You won't kiss me." You finally say, and Jeongin gapes, looking stunned, so you just start to ramble. "It's- do you not want to kiss me? I think you do, because I see you looking at my lips, like now, but then you turn away, and it's just- do you not want me? Not that kissing is a basis in our relationship, I wouldn't break up with you over this. I'd love you even if you never ever kiss me. But I just kind of want to know why you do-"

You ramble and you ramble and at that point you thought that nothing in the world could stop you from talking, until a hand cups your cheek and soft, plush lips are against yours. You immediately shut the fuck up.

Jeongin is kissing you.

He's kissing you, and you aren't kissing back because you're too shocked and shit, he's pulling away and-

"Wait, no, come back-" you gasp, chasing Jeongin's lips. "I wasn't ready, asshole, kiss me again-"

So with a laugh, Jeongin does, and you finally get your brain working enough to slide your lips against his. You can feel him smile against your lips. You weren't sure how you were still kissing, honestly, considering the two of you were grinning like idiots.

But alas, you needed air to breathe, and with a reluctant whine, you both pull away. Jeongin exhales shakily and presses his forehead against yours.

"I don't hate you." He grumbles, and you smile sheepishly. "I love you so mich my heart feels like it's about to explode every time I see you. Just the thought of kissing you got me so nervous that I-" he sighs. "I'm sorry I made you think that."

"No, no, don't. I was just being stupid. I know you love me, I swear. Being deprived of your kisses just made me insane."

Jeongin chuckles, bringing you in for another kiss. But before your lips could touch, a gasp startles the both of you apart.

Jisung. "This is a public space. There are kids around this area. You're a kid!"

Jeongin groans and hides his face in your shoulder. You turn red up to the tips of your ears.

"Gross," Minho says, but there's a cheesy smile on his face. "Here. As celebration of your first kiss, you can have this ugly keychain."

Sewungmin frowns. "If the keychain is so ugly then why did you play rock, paper, scissors for it-"

You frown as wel. "How'd you know that was our-" You stop. You slowly turn to look at Chan, who was hiding behind Minho. "You-! You gossiped!"

"I did not!" Then, after a beat, Chan says, "See! I told you he doesn't hate you!"

You squawk, getting up to chase Chan, but Jeongin stops you with an arm around your waist a quick peck to your lips. You sit back down in a daze.

"Do you want to go chase him around or do you want to sit here and kiss me?"

Jeongin asks, and you scoff. In lieu of an answer, you lean down and kiss him.

He kisses back.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenario #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #seanarios #first maknae line work :O #this whole thing started because i wrote jisung's part and it just spiralled from there 😭

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so-long-soldier-writes · 6 months ago

Text

Overwhelmed

elijah mikaelson x reader | requested

summary: you were warned that the transition would be hard, but words can only prepare you so much. experiencing it for yourself is way different, and harder than you could’ve ever imagined. you’re just glad your boyfriend’s got your back through it all, otherwise things would be going even worse than they already are.

tags: neurodiverse reader / sensory processing disorder, overstimulation, mild panic attack, comfort, some fluff

word count: 2.2k

a/n: requested to be like my other work, One of These Days, but just for Elijah! I tried making this one just a little different from the other, just for some variation, so I hope it's okay! <3

Every emotion you’ve ever felt is ten times stronger. Every bit of anger, sadness, joy, or pleasure. Your body seems to burn with discomfort, or melt with adoration, as your heightened senses take on a personality of their own. Your mind races. Your thinking is quicker, your reflexes are faster, and your feet can move you across a room almost at the speed of sound. It’s strange. Anxiety bubbles in your chest as you try to adapt to each new scenario. Every room in the mansion feels like a new challenge. The bright lights seem to burn into your retinas. Their faint buzzing is like a gunshot close to your ear.

As a human, your senses were already sharp. You could hear someone’s footsteps from the third floor from your top floor room, and you could smell even the faintest scent of chocolate, or coffee, and you could notice the tiny details about someone’s speech, or pick out a lie from a monologue of rambling. Now, you can do all those things still, but they seem to yell at you. The whole world is yelling and you can’t avoid it. Everything is begging for attention - to be seen, to be heard, to be smelled - and there’s no shutting it off. You’re trapped inside your own body, your own mind, and there’s no escape. The yelling of the voices, the buzzing of the lights, the smell of the cologne that lingers in the air, and the feel of the denim clinging to your hips. Everything’s so strong now. Everything’s so-

“Y/N!” A sharp summon yanks you back to reality. A gentle hand rests on your shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Take a deep breath.”

Your dissociated eyes focus on the man in front of you. It takes you a second to recognize him, but his presence soon makes you calm. You look at him, then breathe, before giving a slight nod. He takes his hand off your shoulder. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

You blink a couple times, taking in your surroundings. You’re in the mansion, in Mystic Falls, in the middle of the day. The sun peeks through the windows, but your ring keeps you safe from the rays. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Are you sure? You looked startled.”

“Startled?”

“Panicked. Zoned out, even.”

“I’m okay, ‘Lijah. Just a little… yeah, zoned out.”

“If you want me to find you some herbs to settle your nerves, the Bennett witch might still feel bad about getting you turned,” he starts.

You shrug your shoulders. “No, I think I’m okay. I don’t really want to talk to her right now. Have you gotten any news about your brother?”

Elijah sighs. “Nothing of any use. But don’t you worry about that, okay? I have many contacts who I’ve promised protection as long as they tell me everything they find about him. He won’t be able to sneak up on us, nor will I let him hurt you. Rest your little head.” He kisses your forehead sweetly, cupping your chin. Elijah strides towards the kitchen and fills a cup of water. “Is there anything else I can get you? Something to eat, perhaps?”

The thought of blood kicks up your senses again. The buzzing light occupies its usual space in your mind.

“Um…”

“Y/N?”

“Can you turn off that light?”

Without question, Elijah flicks it off. He smiles softly before handing you the water. “Hungry at all?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Positive? I don’t want you passing out on me from hunger again, love. I know it’s odd, at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

You hesitate. You don’t want to admit that it was overstimulation, not hunger, that caused your first episode. Yes, drinking human blood is something you’ll have to adapt to, but the real struggle is the sensory overload brought on by your transition. It’s worse than you ever thought it would be. And while Elijah warned you, it seems your previous human sensitivities have only multiplied.

“I’m not really hungry. I think I might be tired, actually.”

The man looks at you as if willing the truth out of your sealed lips. He wants to prod, you can tell by the way he purses his lips, but he respects your response. If you don’t want to share, that’s okay.

“Will you be here? Or do you have something to do in town?” You ask, partly changing the subject.

He glances towards the window, but then back at you. “I have one thing for which I have to go into town, but I will be back shortly. Nothing dangerous. Rest easy.”

“You don’t mind if I take a nap?”

“Not at all. All I ask is that you stay here, stay safe, just while I’m gone.”

You nod, before carrying your tired legs up to your room. There, you finally strip yourself of your jeans and t-shirt, then turn off the lights and curl under a mount of comfortable blankets. Your noise canceling headphones block out what the four walls don’t, and sleep comes easy once you shut off the world.

You sleep half the day away and wake up foggy-eyed around eight. Only a bit of sunlight still peeks through your curtains; much of the townspeople should have retired to their homes by now. Slowly, you rise from your bed for a more comfortable set of clothes. Your original plans to go out for one of your first days as a newly transitioned vampire were ruined by your overstimulation and rather long nap, but that’s okay. It’s not something you were looking forward to doing, if you’re being honest.

When you make your way downstairs, Elijah’s in the kitchen. He’s busy with a task, but looks up to acknowledge your presence. A glass of blood rests beside him, but you’re not craving it right now. Instead, a peculiar smell catches in your nose, upsetting your stomach. You cough and try to ignore it.

“Did you get done what you needed to do?”

“I did, mostly, until the students and townspeople decided to gather in the square and distract me from my errand. I’ll just have to finish it tomorrow,” he says with a slight roll of his eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, actually. But do you know what that putrid smell is? Nothing like waking up to that. It feels like it’s burning a hole in my head.”

“That, my dear, is the bonfire that interrupted my conversation. I tell you, I have never seen a town with more social events than this one. It’s a wonder those alone haven’t attracted my brother here.”

“Ugh! And I used to have to go to all those before my friends all turned on me,” you muse. Ever since falling for the original and helping him in his quest to locate Klaus, they haven’t talked to you much. Their disapproval of your relationship is half the reason you were turned in the first place. “I didn’t enjoy them then, up close, and I still don’t like them now.”

“I can imagine it is quite the headache. The smell alone, coupled with the noise.” He pauses. “I sealed the windows to try and block some of it out, but it seems to have managed its way in anyway.”

“So it has,” you reply bitterly. “God, I was finally feeling better, but the minute I came out of my room, it all comes back.”

Just before Elijah can answer, an overexcited “woohoo!” from a local student carries from somewhere outside. You slump your head to the counter with an utterance of disgust. The simple shout is like a dagger between the eyes.

“Y/N…” Elijah begins, hesitantly, “it’s important to feed when you’re this early in your transition. It’ll help with the senses.”

“Are you suggesting I go eat him?”

The man smiles. “No, but I have bags in the fridge. I can pour you a glass.”

Drinking from the rowdy man outside seems much more appetizing than getting a meal from a cold, three day old bag. Your stomach curtles at the thought. “No, I’m fine.”

“Love, your cravings are half of the problem. You can curb your senses when you feed properly. It does you no good to go hungry. What do they call it in this day and age?” He snaps his fingers. “Hangry.”

You glare up at him for a moment, then drop your gaze. “I’m not hangry, ‘Lijah, I just don’t feel like eating.” His pushiness is now adding to your uncomfortable state. You know he does it out of love, but right now, his love is rather suffocating.

“Y/N… I really would feel better if you ate something. It’s been nearly ten hours since your last meal, and-”

“I’m not hungry!” You snap. “I told you already! I ate this morning, and I don’t want anything more. I just want everything to stop! I want the sounds to stop, the feelings - I feel everything, inside and out. I want the stupid smell of the wafting bonfire to get out of my nose. And I want this off me, because it’s touching me, and I don’t want it!” In a rage, you rip off your daylight ring and send it flying across the room.

Elijah startles, fear shooting through him, but then he remembers it’s nighttime. He settles his anxious bones through a few deep breaths and waits for you to calm. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, “I hope you accept my apology.”

The dam breaks at that and tears flood your eyes. You cover your face with your hands and try to fight them off. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just… stressed. There’s so much going on and so little I feel I can do about it. Everything is different, and loud, and overwhelming, and I’m taking it out on you.”

“None of that is your fault. You didn’t ask to be turned.”

“No, but I could be handling it better.”

“Y/N… you struggled with such things when you were human. How could you be expected to adapt quickly as a vampire? Your senses are heightened regardless of what you faced as a mortal; yours are even more sensitive than most. That makes you stronger than you even believe yourself to be. You should give yourself more credit.”

“I don’t feel stronger. I feel like an already weak person dumbed down.”

“Well I see the exact opposite. Your transition isn’t easy, but it’ll make you better in the long run. You’ll learn how to master your strengths and adapt to your weaknesses. You’ll make weapons out of them, and they’ll save your life. And, probably at times, mine, too. It’s a rare thing that you have, but you can make a disability into an advantage.”

“Maybe. If I ever manage to cope with it.”

“You will. I know you will. And I will be here to help you through it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiles. “So, if you’re up for it, put the ring back on? Give this thing another chance?”

You sigh. “Tomorrow? When the sun comes out? I can’t wear rings for too long at a time; I don’t like the feeling, it’s like it suffocates my skin.”

“Let’s make a deal. You can take it off when the sun goes down, but at night, you have to wear it or keep your blinds tightly shut. And don’t misplace or lose it, because witches can be hard to find.”

Smiling, you agree. “Okay. I’ll keep it close.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, too.”

“Now… when you say that the ring is suffocating your skin, is that just the ring, or everything?”

The question goes a bit over your head at first. You miss the way he’s looking at you and focus on answering honestly. “Sometimes, it’s everything, but other times, I can tolerate certain things. Right now, everything is overwhelming. Even my hair touching my head right now is stressful.”

“Okay.”

“Wait… were you asking something else?”

He shakes his head. “I was just wondering if you’d like to sit with me, but I understand if you need some space.”

You think about it, wanting desperately to have some time with him, and willing away your discomfort. “What if we… what if we sit, and in a little bit, I might feel better?”

“As long as you’re up for it.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

For about twenty minutes, you sit in your respective chairs and laugh along to a sitcom that’s airing reruns on the tv. Elijah turned off all the lights and shut the curtains beforehand, creating a soft atmosphere in which you could relax. Your ring sits on the table in between you both, but the pressure to wear it is absent. You’ll put it on when it’s necessary.

At the next commercial break, you silently slide out of your own chair and catch his attention. He gives you a quizzical look, about to ask where you’re going, but then you crawl into his lap in three quick movements, and his hands automatically reach out to support you. Your feet hang over the armchair, but your head is against his chest. Wanting to feel a bit more cozy, you grab a nearby blanket and drape it over the both of you. Elijah kisses your hair, then rests his lips on the side of your head. His contented breathing slows your own.

“Comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

He kisses you again, a response of his own, and smiles. “I love you, too.”

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson fluff #tvd fanfiction #requested #neurodivergent reader

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softpascalito · 5 months ago

Text

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 3 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 12k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: very excited for this chapter because you guys finally get to see what a big part of fic will deal with. keeping everyone who reads on in my prayers <3 (you'll need it)

i've also added a small playlist for this fic. in case you'd like to dive in the link is above!

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 3 - The Sky

‘‘The sky here’s very strange. I often have the sensation when I look at it that it's a solid thing up there, protecting us from what’s behind.’ ‘But what is behind?’ Her voice was very small. ‘Nothing, I suppose. Just darkness. Absolute night.’’

- Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky

The body is resting against the only intact wall of the cabin, to Joel's left. Propped up next to the fireplace, the scene around it leaving no doubt about the finality of it. Blue hair drenched in red, thick liquid pooling below and running through the crevices of the weathered and beaten wood.

He barely registers Tommy’s footsteps behind him nor that they come to a sudden halt.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath.

Joel is the one that steps forward, kneeling down next to the fireplace, his hand gently reaching out to touch the pale skin of her hand. “She’s already cold. Must’ve been a few hours,” he whispers, his voice dangerously close to cracking.

“We need to alert the others. What if these guys are already at the gates? Maria has no clue-”

“Tommy-” Joel gently tries to stop the rambling of his brother, but he can't bring himself to take his eyes off her. But the other man is barely listening, his feet shuffling anxiously as he reaches for his rifle.

“Joel, goddamn it, I mean it. Get up. They may be waiting for the moment to attack-”

“There is no attack,” Joel says, again, and his voice feels too calm for what he’s implying.

He stalls for a moment, the realization coming to him that he’s gotten too good at this. He’s gotten too good at being in the presence of death, likely better than he ever has been in the presence of people.

He carefully leans forward, using his free hand to gently push the fabric of her hoodie out of the way, glancing down at the wound and giving a small nod. He doesn't need to see the way Tommy’s shoulders fall. He feels the air shift as his brother comes to the conclusion Joel has found much faster. They both know why he got there quicker. Takes one to know one.

“Why would she-” Tommy breaks off, turning his gaze away from the thing he doesn't understand. “I don't know,” Joel mutters under his breath. It hasn't hit him yet, the full force of what this means. Of the consequences it will draw. “We need to get her back to Jackson.” But he can’t really focus on that. Not when he has your best friend’s lifeless body next to him without a clue where you are.

“Do you think-” There's a heavy pause. “Did she do this alone?” Tommy asks, placing his rifle next to the door and beginning to look around the cabin for something useful.

Joel immediately knows what he's asking. But he shakes his head. “I don't think she would have- There's no sign anyone else was here.”

His head is spinning, screaming at him to do the one thing he knows. He needs to find you.

And then he doesn't. Because before they can even begin to move the body, he can hear hooves approaching outside. He recognizes the fast gallop of your horse even before you call their names.

“Lane?! Joel?! Tommy?!” Your lungs hurt from calling them. It was easy enough to follow the tracks, spurring your own horse on much more than you dared on any patrol so far. The mare almost seems relieved when you reach the two other horses and you slide off her back in one quick motion.

It's at the same moment that the door flies open, Joel crossing the small veranda in a few strides. You freeze in your tracks. “Where-?” The words die in your throat. Joel carefully makes his way towards you, his steps slow and controlled. Your eyes fly to his hands. They’re bloody. He has almost reached you when you find his eyes again. There is a gentleness in them that confuses you for a split second.

And then it all makes sense. You don't want the blood, you don't want that look in his eyes, you don't want any of it once you realize what it means.

“No.” Your voice comes out all wrong and you don't know if he heard you. If anyone can.

“It's okay. Come here,” Joel mumbles as he reaches you, carefully sneaking his arm around you. He tries to pull you close and he's not sure whether it's for your or his sake. Maybe both.

“No. Joel, where is she?”

He shushes you again, readying himself to catch you if your knees give out, his grip around you tightening ever so slightly.

Joel Miller has come to know you fairly well over the past years. At least he likes to think he does and you've rarely caught him off guard. But today you do.

“Where is she?!” Your knees don't give out. Not even close. They bend just enough for you to slip past the broad man in front of you, taking off with a run towards the door of the cabin.

It takes him a second to register what has happened. Then, he’s storming after you as fast as his legs will allow him.

“Tommy!” he yells out, hoping that if he won't be able to stop you, at least his brother will. But it's he who catches up with you just as you take the first step onto the veranda, roughly pulling you back by your arm, hard enough that it sends both of you tumbling to the floor.

He barely registers the way the wooden step digs into his ribs and knocks the air out of his lungs. Instead, his fingers stay tightly wrapped around your arm. “Fucking let go, Joel! Let me see her!”

He doesn't know what to say. He can't tell you that he simply can't. That it would stay with you forever, even more than this will anyway.

“Come here,” he just repeats weakly, bringing his other arm around to pull you in. One of your knees is bleeding, your jeans ripped open where you hit the floor with full force. Joel makes a mental note to clean the wound later.

Your body is trembling much harder than you thought possible as you let Joel pull you into his arms. It has nothing to do with the cold. You don't even feel like you're able to recognize temperature. An absurd concept, that your body would adjust to any of it, that it would ever stop shaking and trembling. Joel's arms feel like he's all around you, wrapping his body around yours, sheltering you from what is only a few feet away.

Your lungs that were burning just a minute ago seem to not be a part of you anymore. They in- and exhale in their own rhythm, one that feels too fast and too slow all at once. You hear Joel muttering into your ear, but you can't make out the words. Your cheeks are wet. You don't know why.

The world dissolves around you and you briefly wonder if you’re dying. It's not a shocking idea that gets you up and fighting. You wonder about death the same way you would about whether or not they have soap at the store. The world has almost gone dark when you realize you are not, in fact, dying. But, even as the strength leaves your muscles and you collapse against the body next to you, you are aware that something has.

***

You regain consciousness, just for a moment. There is a steady rise and fall around you and at first you think it's your lungs expanding and deflating. But as you open your eyes enough to catch a glimpse of your surroundings, they move. Up and down. Slow and steady.

You're on horseback, pressed against a broad chest that has to be Joel’s. His arms are pulling you tightly into him, keeping you upright, making sure you won't fall off. You don't think you could bring yourself to care. It probably wouldn't even hurt. In fact, every part of your body should hurt with the way you were running earlier, with how you fell onto the stairs, bone crunching as it took the blow to your side. But oddly enough, it feels like you're floating, like your mind is far away from your body and equally far away from Joel. There is a disconnect, a faulty wire. One that simmers, undetected, till it snaps one random afternoon and sets the whole house on fire.

You still feel like you’re drifting in and out of consciousness when the movement below you slows and you feel yourself being lifted down by strong, steady arms. They are a constant around you, a shield that protects you from what is beyond.

Word about your disappearances has traveled fast but not fast enough for no one to ask any questions. There have rarely been any runaways in Jackson, except for the occasional teenagers who usually show up again the day after- and the couple last year. The bodies Joel had found in the abandoned hotel. Why was he always the one to find them?

People approach, some calling out to the odd group arriving. Tommy leading both horses and shushing those who call out to them while Joel holds you close, staring down anyone who so much as tries to approach him.

“I’ll go and fetch Maria and we can-” Tommy pauses, his gaze wandering from his brother's face to the curled up body below it. He can't bring himself to say it. Not like this, not in front of you.

Joel gives a curt nod, understanding. “Tell Maria we're at my place. And-” A small sigh escapes his lips. “Make sure she arranges for a group immediately.”

The younger man swallows hard and turns away. Infected will happily devour any meat they're given, no matter if they've hunted it down themselves. He doesnt think he could bear going back and finding a scene like that. His steps speed up.

You only catch glimpses of the people around you, words being whispered, conversations being started and then abruptly breaking off. And you still feel light, so light that you think you could just float away, disappear into the blue until you’d reach the horizon and whatever lies beyond. But you're wrapped in the dark leather coat that keeps sliding off your shoulders, wrapped in Joel’s arms, and so it won't happen. He won't let you float away.

For all you know, all of the sounds and glimpses could be figments of your imagination, something like a dream or a fleeting memory of a book you’ve read as a child, one that you remember the cover and smell of, remember that it made you feel something, and yet, the story won't come to mind anymore. Above all, this can be, needs to be, something that is unreal. Because otherwise, you dont think you’ll be able to get through it.

You don't move. You let Joel carry you down Rancher Street, you let him nudge your head further into his chest as you realize you must be passing the corner of the graveyard. It seems impossible that you walked by it just a few hours ago, with your mind on the library and which exams to set and dinner this weekend. It all feels like a lifetime ago, a memory that doesn't belong to you but rather someone else.

The morning fog sunk back into the earth hours ago, the rays of the sun forcing it to clear. The sky above you feels close enough to touch, a vibrant and comforting shade of blue spanning from the tops of the wooden houses to the mountains in the distance.

You were just a baby when your father put up a swing in your backyard, strong ropes tied to the branch of an old oak tree. You must have heard the story a million times. Him, getting out his tools while you were watching from your blanket on the grass, not quite able to move your head on your own yet. But he insisted that your large eyes followed him around, contently staying where you were as he worked.

You didn't understand, when hearing him talk about it, why he'd build a swing for someone too small to play on it. It only set in years later that he'd simply been that excited to bring home a little daughter and build something for her and fill the backyard with children's and adults' laughter alike.

That evening, he put you on his lap, one arm securely wrapped around the tiny form that was your body then, gently moving both of you back and forth. You’d fallen asleep almost instantly.

It became your favorite spot, and the way he talked about it years after you had left the house and the garden behind, it had been his too. You loved kicking your feet or spurring your father on to push you harder, watching as your legs soared towards the blue sky.

It seemed to you, back then, that you were miles above the ground, imagining what it'd be like to let go and drift off into the sky, to go up, up, up until your house would be nothing more than a small square below you, surrounded by green.

Joel carries you into the living room. He doesn't seem to want to leave you alone. And he seems restless.

He gets on his knees in front of you, soft brown eyes taking in your face. You avoid meeting them, curling further into the couch. His lips are moving but you can’t hear what he says.

After a few moments pass, you can tell he’s waiting for a response so you nod, almost in slow motion. He seems satisfied with that, saying something else before getting dinner started. It probably smells good, but you don't think you know good anymore.

You get through two potatoes, a bit of salad and chicken before you push your chair back, hurrying down the hallway as Joel scrambles after you.

You make it to the bathroom just in time, falling to your knees in front of the toilet as your stomach begins emptying itself. A sharp pain shoots through the knee that collided with the stairs of the cabin earlier. At the thought of the cabin, another wave of sickness hits you. It's violent, the way your throat convulses, your body trying to empty itself of whatever is inside.

But there is no purging the things inside of you. The thoughts and the memories and the images- god, the images. Lane, hunched over a table. Lane, holding a knife while you make dinner. Lane, laughing. Lane, placing a gun to her head. Lane, crying.

The steady flow of scenarios provided by your brain is broken by another wave of nausea, even though this time it is just dry heaving, your stomach already empty. Your head is not.

You don't hear the rushed footsteps behind you, but you feel the calloused hands pulling your hair out of the way and rubbing your back.

“There you go, get it all out,” Joel coos quietly. It's not his fault. That he doesn't immediately connect the dots as you start sobbing, choking for air. The sobs, your lungs demanding air, your stomach blocking the way, clearly insistent on getting everything out of your system.

You’re positive that the noises coming out of your mouth do not sound like yourself or, for that matter, sound human at all. They're a mix of gasping and heaving, back and forth, as your fingers clench around the toilet seat so hard you feel like it may break.

Joel is very lost and very determined not to let you notice. He has never seen you in this much pain, not when he washed you in the bathroom upstairs nor when you were seconds away from being ripped apart by an Infected. He cannot know that on the first night spent with Lane you were hunched over a toilet just like this, throwing up the blueberry muffins that had been too much for your starved stomach to handle. He cannot know she held your hair like he holds it now, fingers firmly wrapped around it, occasionally sweeping a loose strand behind your ear.

You're not sure how long you sit there like this, the cold tiles uncomfortably pressing into Joel's already sore knees, when he carefully leans you against the wall as he fetches a few towels, letting the water run until it's warm, to wet one of them and wipe your face.

His eyes fly over your features, concern etched into every part of his face. You weakly try and raise your arm to take the towel from him, unwilling to just sit and watch. But he shakes his head firmly, his gaze determined. “Let me, okay? You just focus on breathing.”

As he reaches for another towel, you feel your empty stomach filling again. With a heavy, uncomfortable guilt, one you wish you could throw right back up. Tears shoot into your eyes again but this time Joel doesn't hesitate.

“What's going on? Tell me what you're thinking,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the side of your face as his other hand uses the towel to dab over your chin, carefully wiping the remainder of the vomit away.

“I wasted your food,” you half-whisper, your voice raw. Joel's face falls, for a moment.

“Nothing is ever wasted on you, you hear me?” he mumbles quietly, moving on to wipe your cheek. “I can always make more.”

He doesn't seem to mind that you cry again at that.

***

It must be past midnight when you wake up the next time. The room is only dimly lit now, and a blanket is tucked around you, your eyes facing the worn-out fabric of the couch Joel set you down on earlier. Earlier feels very far away.

You turn, slowly, glad to find that your stomach seems to decide to give it a rest for now. It still lurches slightly as you squint into the dining room, seeing two figures hunched over the wooden table.

“Joel?” you try to call his name, quietly, but your throat feels dry and the word turns into a cough instead. Your fingers rub your throat, willing it to calm down and relax, as Joel appears in front of you, kneeling down beside the couch and offering you a glass of water. You nod your thanks, using both hands to bring it to your mouth and take a few sips.

“Better?” He hums softly, taking the glass back. You give another nod. If he minds the non-verbal communication, he doesn’t let it show. Instead he turns around, returning with the glass refilled. You gratefully accept it again.

It's only after he's placed it onto the small coffee table that your eyes land on Tommy, leaning against the wooden column separating the two rooms as he watches the scene in front of him. He gives you a swift nod when your eyes meet and something that seems like it was supposed to be a smile but, given the circumstances, fails miserably.

Joel motions for him to come closer. “Come on, it's- have a seat.” Their eyes meet and they seem to communicate silently, no doubt continuing the conversation where they left off.

Tommy sits down. He shuffles his feet, his fingers anxiously tapping the lid of a plastic container that holds some food. Courtesy of Maria, no doubt. Joel takes the spot next to you on the couch and you inch towards him, glad for any kind of support even though you have no clue what is about to happen.

“We- We’re still trying to piece everything together,” Tommy says, his voice quiet and solemn. You tense ever so slightly, listening intently. You're not sure you want to know how or why or any of the other details that will undoubtedly make this more real.

“There was a note in- with her,” he goes on, seemingly choosing his words very carefully. “She said she left you a letter, back at home.” Your eyes automatically fly to Tommy’s sides, half expecting him to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. He seems to notice your train of thought.

“We're still going through her room, just to make sure- we just want to be certain this happened the way she says it did,” he finishes quietly. You can feel two pairs of eyes on you, but you just nod. Of course. Someone could’ve murdered her and staged it as a suicide. Somehow, that idea didn’t cross your mind. Maybe because you don't think anyone could ever truly hate Lane nearly enough to wish her harm or maybe simply because you already seem to feel in your stomach that her life ended on her own terms.

Joel and Tommy exchange a few glances until Joel awkwardly clears his throat and reaches out to take the plastic container from him. “I'll put this in the fridge.”

The younger brother keeps his eyes on you as you listen to Joel rummaging in the kitchen. His hand awkwardly reaches for your shoulder, hovering above it for a moment before patting it lightly. “I'm so sorry, kid.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” you manage to press out, your own gaze fixed on the opposite wall. You don't want to see the look again, the same one Joel had back at the cabin. In fact, you think you may never want anyone to look at you ever again.

You're still staring at the same spot when the two men head towards the front door a few minutes later. Their voices are low and they must be standing half outside, if the cold creeping into the house is anything to go by. You know their words are not meant for your ears but you still stay absolutely still, listening.

“I’ll bring the letter by tomorrow, okay? Let her get it over with,” Tommy mumbles and you think you hear him shuffling his feet again.

“Yeah, yeah, you do that,” Joel responds, equally quiet. There is a moment of silence. They haven't had a moment to talk about all this, for Joel to consider if he of all people should be the one to take care of you.

Tommy seems to think along the same lines, even though you can't begin to guess the depth of their seemingly simple words.

“Are you okay to-?”

Joel gives a shaky nod. “Yeah, ‘ts fine. She needs someone and- Ellie’s staying with Dina for a few days, until we've figured things out.”

Tommy doesn't know what to say. He carefully takes in Joel's face, or at least what he can make out of it in the dim light of the porch. He goes for a hug instead, wrapping his arms around his brother for a fleeting moment, a hand rubbing over the older man's back. “Either of you need anything, we're all here.”

His voice has dropped enough for you not to overhear the last part.

Maybe it's because Joel's own hearing is bad, but he doesn't seem to realize you've been listening when he comes back into the room a few moments later. “I'm sure they'll be done tomorrow. But we should all try and get some sleep now.” He takes a step towards you, gently running his hand over the top of your head. “I put some fresh sheets onto the bed upstairs while you were out. I don't want ya sleeping on the couch.”

You're too tired and exhausted to protest. Besides, you know it would be a waste of time. So you let him help you upstairs, let him wait right outside the bathroom door as you brush your teeth and let him tuck you into bed, the soft sheets a stark contrast against your dirty and scratched up skin. Joel looks down at you for a moment, his fingers tapping against his leg.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

It's almost embarrassing how fast you jump onto the offer, nodding as you finally meet his eyes again. He looks concerned and sad and you hate that you're the cause of it. But you also want his company, more than anything.

Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you shortly afterwards. He’s changed into pajamas, made up of a pair of brown plaid pants and a cream-colored, worn shirt. Compared to you, he actually looks put together. You can see his outline beside you, the candle on his nightstand the only source of light left in the room. It gives everything a dim, orange glow, distantly reminding you of a sunset.

You're suddenly aware of how very heavy your head feels, far too heavy to be held up by your neck. There are too many thoughts in there, you think, they don’t have enough room to breathe. Or to make sense. The faulty wires are back. And they keep your synapses from connecting correctly. Nothing makes sense.

‘We just want to be certain this happened the way she says it did.’

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice comes out small and still, it seems too loud in the quiet around you.

“Anything,” comes the response, equally quiet even though Joel's voice sounds more steady than yours. You ponder your words for a few moments and you feel him shift beside you, propping his head up on one arm to get a better look at your face. “What is it, darlin’?”

“They brought her back to Jackson, right?”

Joel seems to consider his words for a moment, then he nods slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, they did.” Even in the dim light, you can feel his eyes on you, searching your face. You turn your face away from him, staring at the stacked records in the corner instead.

“Why would someone go through all that trouble? Bringing her so far out?” The words coming out of your mouth seem as much a surprise to you as they are to Joel. You can hear him suck in a breath beside you. The mattress dips below his weight as he sits up.

“Can you look at me for a moment?”

You obey, turning your head and resting your cheek against your shoulder. You can see Joel's face above you. He looks like he's about to cry. You must be very tired, you think to yourself. Joel Miller doesn't cry.

Before your eyes and mind can drift away again, he swallows and speaks up again, the southern drawl in his voice more present than ever.

“Honey- No one made her go.”

His words are slow, carefully chosen. He knows he is treading a fine line here.

“She did it herself, darlin’.” A small frown has spread over his face, his eyebrows knitted together. “I told you earlier, downstairs. Don’t you remember?”

You shake your head, painfully aware that the gentleness in his tone is back, the same one he’s had earlier at the cabin. You think you know all the things he’s telling you, but you can’t recall Joel saying it. The picture of him in front of the couch appears before your eyes, but you can’t make out the words coming out of his mouth. Again, you find yourself surprised that you're the one who speaks instead.

“Did anyone check her?”

He pauses at that, the frown deepening. “What do you mean?”

You take a small breath, your fingers pulling at a loose thread of the sheets below you. “I mean, did they check if she's really-” You pull a little harder and the thread breaks, the thin piece of fabric remaining in your palm.

You wonder if they have wrapped her up yet. If someone’s put fresh clothes on her. If anyone has checked her pulse.

“What if she's not dead?”

“I need you to listen to me.” His voice is slightly more urgent now. “I saw her. And she's gone. I'm so sorry and I wish she wasn't and I know-” His voice comes dangerously close to breaking but he only gives a tiny shake of his head and presses on.

“I know how difficult this must be but you need to understand this. She's gone. She's not coming back.”

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing or commenting, i promise it will be the highlight of my day <3

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beekeeperspicnic · 7 months ago

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I'm sure someone already asked you this, but I am kinda new to your page, so I haven't seen it.

What inspired you/why did you decide to make the game specifically about them after they retire?

Personally, I love the idea and find it really cute and can't wait when the full version comes out :)

I'm sure I have answered before but I'm very bad at tagging things properly...

So, I think my line of thinking/inspiration went something like this:

I just generally really like hopepunk/utopian/introspective stories where the threat isn't an exterior one but solely comes from characters having to figure out who they are and what they want and what a good life means to them.

When Star Trek Picard was announced, I remember instantly wishing it was about retired Picard on his vineyard solving cosy/philosophical mysteries on solar punk utopian Earth. I knew it probably *wasn't* going to be that and it was going to involve spaceships and battles, but I think I filed that idea away somewhere in my brain.

The fun thing with Sherlock Holmes is that Arthur Conan Doyle ended up putting together a slightly patchwork picture of the lives of his characters, which opens the door for speculation about what was "really" happening. In 'His Last Bow', the final story chronologically, Holmes and Watson seem to have grown apart, but the moment they are together again they resume their old closeness. Holmes speculates they may not see each other again after that story... but did they? It feels like there's a story there waiting to be told!

I wrote something in Volume 3 of So Far Down Queer Street if you want to read me rambling more about why their relationship captivates me.

Also when Adrian Conan Doyle had a go at writing his father's characters, he gave us a slightly different ending which I adore...

#nice asks

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merakiui · 3 months ago

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21. Pick an author to co-write with and what you'd write about!

(And/or if you're not comfortable with that question)

32. Do characters influence your writing style?

(writer asks)

21. pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

:O co-writing!!!! Aaaa hmm,,, in advance, I would like to apologize for the sudden tags. Please forgive me if it startled you. T_T

@rel124c41 ! definitely something tweels-related. My fellow eel appreciator. 🤝 it would be an honor to one day exchange ideas or even work on a fic together. :D (I am SO EXCITED for Arnolfini Portrait by the way!! You have no idea!!! I studied that exact portrait for a class assignment once and so it is such a lovely surprise to see it come up once more in my life!!!)

@heyyy11 ! we already exchange ideas so frequently and it has led to wonderful brain worms (one of which was fed with RABU)! I think it would be fun to write something together!!! Your brain is so galaxy, Kheyy…… WAAAAAA MUCH LOVE AND MANY KISSES!!!!

@qierxing the Trey truther of all time!!!!!! As it is only fitting, it would be so lovely to write about Trey. Or Heartslabyul as a whole!! Xing's written and artistic portrayal and characterization of Trey always leaves me so gagged in the best of ways. OHHHH, HE IS SO MISCHIEVOUS. I WANT HIM. OTL

@yandere-romanticaa ! I know how much you hate (love) a certain 11th Harbinger hehehe. 🫣 Childe lurks in the back of my head all the time and I'm often reminded of him whenever I read any of your posts about him. He truly is the menace of all time. I hope to one day talk more about him and write with you!!!!

@alj0saray ! Severn, I would like to confess that I have lurked in your Sunday writings for far too long and am only admitting it now due to shyness. ( 〃．．) but your hybrid Sunday……… HE IS SO YUMMY. The way you write him is so amazing,,,,, I fall every time. ALSO, A BIG CONGRATULATIONS ON 3K AAAAAA YAAAYYY!!!!!! 🎉 my ramblings aside, I would love to write about Sunday with you!! >o<

32. do characters influence your writing style?

Absolutely!! I've noticed this only recently, but whenever I write for Malleus my style becomes so flowery and poetic. My hope is that it feels Victorian in essence, but I'm happy as long as it has elegance!

I think the same can be said when certain themes are attached to characters. If it's Rollo I'm writing for, you can expect plenty of religious symbolisms and references. If it's Floyd, there is a lot of deeper meanings hidden within informality. Floyd actually helped me write better dialogue (especially his own dialogue, as it's so distinct and very different from what I normally write). Thank you to Floyb for helping me step out of the rigid confines of dialogue I once trapped myself in. <3

#chit chat #ask game

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meo-on-prairie · 1 year ago

Text

Amor

Getou Suguru x Reader

Prompt: “Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? // With every guitar string scar on my hand // I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover” - Lover (Taylor Swift)

Words Count:1.3k

Tags: Suguru x reader, AU, Fluff, pure fluff and good time.

Rambling: Back with my Swiftie agenda. This fic wrote itself ngl, I planned something completely different idk how I got here. Life has been putting me through the meat grinder so I’m writing fluffy fanfic to cope.

“We need to take down the Christmas light.” Suguru brought up while you two are washing the dishes after dinner.

“Yeah we should. Or… we can keep leaving it up for another month.”

Suguru pauses and gives you a pointed look, “Hun, it’s already April.”

“Exactly. We already procrastinated to this point, might as well procrastinate all the way. If we never take it down, we won’t have to put it back up in December.” you pointed out.

You just find it’s useless to take it down. Not like you guys have it plugged in so you're not wasting any electricity, they're just there. There is no reason to waste time to put it up and take it back down every year.

“You’re unbelievable” Suguru chuckled

“Thank you, my genius knows no bounds.” you joke as you hand him another plate to dry.

He leans down to kiss your temple, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” you said smugly “I love you too.”

After you finish with the dishes, the two of you decide to watch a movie before going to bed. You cuddle up to Suguru. You enjoy this little routine you two have. You both wake up an hour earlier than you need to cuddle with each other, you eat breakfast together before going to work. If possible, you two would have lunch together. Suguru would cook dinner, you would wash the dishes and he insisted on drying them. Then you would spend the night doing things together or doing your own things while being in the same room. It’s a mundane and boring cycle, but to you, it’s anything but boring.

You always thought that love is all about butterflies in your stomach, heart racing, excitement, going on dates to fancy restaurants. And yes, those are always fun and lovely. But if you really have to choose, you would choose this mundane life with Suguru over everything.

“Would you like to go on a date with me this weekend?” Suguru asked you out of the blue.

“Do you even need to ask?”

“It’s a polite thing to do.”

“Well then, Yes. I would love to go on a date with you.” you said with a small laugh. It’s cute, you have spent 3 winters with Suguru, but somehow he always manages to make you feel like you've been with each other for 20 seconds and 20 years.

“Where are we going?” you asked

“It’s a surprise, just dress pretty.” Suguru replied softly, placing a kiss on your hair.

You hum softly at his response, “How pretty would you like me to be?”

He takes his eyes off the TV and looks down at you. Feeling his gaze, you tilt your head back to look into his eyes.

“As pretty as you are right now.” Suguru muttered before capturing your lips.

////

You decide to wear a white tube dress you bought a week ago. You love the way this dress looks on you, it shows off all your curves in all the right places. But you’re not the only one that enjoys the way this dress looks on you.

“It looks lovely on you, but I think it’ll look lovelier when I take it off you.” Suguru whispers in your ears from behind. He has his hands wrapping around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

“I bought it so you can take it off.” you hinted, turning your head to kiss the top of his hair. You can feel his smile against your skin.

Suguru reserved a nice Italian restaurant downtown. You’re seated near the window. The dimmed light makes Suguru look extra alluring. The way the light cast over his form brings out all of his best features.

You watch as Suguru pours himself his second glass of wine. The foods you order haven’t come out yet and Suguru is already on his second glass. He’s also oddly quiet, usually he would flirt with you as if it’s a first date. You also noticed that he has his left hand in his pocket this entire time.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, “You seem anxious. Did something happen at work?”

“Nothing, Love. you’re just looking so gorgeous it’s making me a little bit nervous.” He replied. You hum in response, deciding not to press it further. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

////

After dinner, Suguru drove you to what looked like an empty parking lot.

“Where are we?”

“You’ll see.”

“This place is both dark and empty, and if movies have taught me anything, this place is a good place to murder someone.” you point out.

“I can’t with you,” he shook his head, laughing a little “come on.”

Suguru opens the door for you and offers you his hand. You take his hand and step out of the car. Your hands intertwine with his as he leads you to this flight of stairs you can't seem to see the end of.

“You’re making me climb these stairs, in this dress?” you lamented.

“I’ll carry you when you get tired, it’s shorter than you think.” Suguru compromised.

“Ugh, you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” he acknowledged with pride.

Suguru was right, it’s not as bad as you thought it would be, though it did take the wind out of you. When you reach the top, you can’t help but stop and stare in awe. At the top of the stairs is a small shrine with a few cement benches around the vicinity. This place is at the perfect height where you can overlook the town and see the wide sky at the same time.

“You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous” you breathe out, not taking your eyes off the sky.

You have never seen so many stars in the sky before. They're glistening and shimmering, as if they are beckoning you toward them. You were so mesmerized you didn't notice how Suguru is kneeling behind you on one knee. A small box in his hand.

“My love?” Suguru called out to you.

“Yes?” you answer, finally taking your eyes off the sky. You turn around to face Suguru, gasping when you see the position he’s in. Tears welling up in your eyes.

“I have been practicing this for weeks, I have about 100 thrown out speeches. No words were strong enough to describe my love for you. Even the word “love” itself falls short. But even if I don’t have the right words, I do know what I want to spend the rest of my days waking up next to you, cooking dinner for you, and falling asleep with you. So will you grant me the greatest honor, of being by your side for the rest of this life and beyond?” he pleaded, voice shaking with every word.

You were crying at this point. Full on sobbing. You can barely see through the tears. You can’t find your voice either. So you nod. Furiously. Before dropping down to his level and throwing yourself around him.

“Hey now, don’t make me drop the ring.” he teased.

You pull away from him, still sobbing. He wipes your tears away with his thumb before taking your hand and slides the ring on you. You can see the reflection of your lips in his eyes.

To Suguru, your lips look like a question begging for an answer, so he answered. He kisses you hungrily, full of relief and sheer joy. He cupped your jaws to deepen the kiss. His lips move against yours like a well practiced tango. He can’t wait to throw out another 100 speeches as he writes his vow to you. You kiss him back desperately, trying to convey him all your joy and show him how much you love him. Because he was right, the word “love” does fall short. You can taste the wine he's been sipping on during dinner. His liquid courage, you realized. It’s almost unbelievable how much you love this man. You want to go wherever he goes. You want to be with him forever. You would gladly take this magnetic force of a man to be your lover, in this life and the next.

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r1poutmygvtz · 18 days ago

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longgg ramble/vent/whatever's on my mind, idk man i'm tired and should probably schedule another therapy appointment soon

also this is kinda just all over the place, idk my thoughts are kinda scattered rn for some reason

(tws: mental health talk, sh, suicide attempts, od mention, ed, body issues, weed + alcohol talk, medicine misuse, childhood abuse, pet + family death mentions, possibly more idk if i missed one lmk and i'll tag it and put it up here)

my mental health right now is so fragile i don't understand, like obviously i know i'm depressed, i've been diagnosed for nearly two years now but i should've been much earlier, maybe that's why it got so bad, i don't even remember why i was diagnosed tbh, i think it was my first time back after like a year and a half maybe two years of not being in therapy and obviously a lot of shit happened, in that time that i went without therapy i tried to kms three times, had an alcoholic phase, and got addicted to weed

it was also sometime around my birthday i believe, which would make sense on why i got diagnosed, im always super depressed around my birthday, i mean i was expelled on my 13th, my great grandma died the day after my 14th and the day after that i tried to kms and that was the most traumatizing one and it took me over 2 years to be able to take the meds that i od'd on again without freaking out, i was literally so high i can't even remember my 15th, 4 days before my 16th i graduated (horrible for me, i had a panic attack everyday leading up to it for like 2 weeks straight) and 2 days after that my cat that i had since my 12th birthday died, so there's literally nothing enjoyable about my birthday and it feels more like a curse than anything

anyways, i've been the same since i was like 8 or 9, i was depressed and dreamt/wished i would die or get seriously hurt, maybe i just wanted my dad to care about me for once or maybe i did really just want to die, im not sure, i can't really remember my childhood, my therapist says i most likely have ptsd from the abuse which would explain the memory gaps and dpdr (depersonalization & derealization for those that don't know, the derealization is confirmed by my therapist btw just not the depersonalization but that's probably only because i didn't bring that up)

i think the most fucked up part is the fact it took me 16 years to find out the abuse was also physical, i spent the entire time before that thinking it was only verbal towards me and my siblings but i guess not, also apparently all the times me and my sister went to my neighbors/aunts house was because we were hiding from my dad, i thought we just went over to watch cartoons because we didn't have them at home, idk it was just weird for me to find out 7 years after it stopped, it doesn't really bother me all that much tbh my dad was already dead to me and i've been mostly no contact with him for almost 3 years now

also speaking of me as a kid, that's when a lot of my problems started, i was 9 almost 10 for the dpdr and 8 or 9 when i started hating my body, sh came in later tho i was like 10 or 11 when that started, i actually remember being like 9 and writing down everything i ate on a piece of paper, and when i was 10 i kept a notebook full of what i weighed in the morning and night and would see the difference in it, i also vividly remember asking my mom how many calories were in something from mcdonald's and she told me i was too young to be asking that so i just kinda stopped after that which obviously ended up coming back, i mean just look at my account

anyways yea i just hate how back and forth my mental health is, one day i could be doing great and think i'm amazing and unbelievably pretty and smart and ill try to better myself by getting sober and staying clean, then the next day i'll hate myself and consider going back to taking my meds throughout the day just so i was loopy and hardly able to process anything

tbh i do miss it a lot, i started back when i was heavily addicted to weed and would take my meds when i couldn't smoke, actually i used to take melatonin a bunch throughout the day so i could just pass out if anything happened that i didn't want to deal with (literally anything at all tbf) but that started to not work as well as i wanted so i turned to my meds, i'd take my nightly dose (50mg instead of the 20mg i was supposed to take) at like noon and would be loopy until it was time to actually take it, i didn't do it much tbh, my sisters bf caught on after the third or fourth time because i had just met his family for the first time that day and their dog tried to bite my face apparently and i didn't even react (didn't even realize it happened tbh) and he asked what was up with me and i told him bc i've known him forever, anyways yea he yelled at me to knock it off and went on about how it's gonna kill me if i kept doing it, so i did it like once after that and it's been months since i've done it again

it's kinda funny tho, those meds actually could've killed me regardless, i was supposed to take them three times a day but only really did once at school and i still got a bunch of the more serious side effects because i wasn't supposed to smoke while taking them but obv i did bc i was addicted, like breathing was hard, i nearly fainted all the time, my appetite was nonexistent, my heart was starting to mess up, like i literally thought i had a heart attack one day because the side effects were that bad and my mom and sister started looking up symptoms of POTS because that's what the side effects looked like, anyways i got taken off those months ago but i still have them somewhere and i'm fighting the urge to find and take them just so i have no appetite and so i'll sleep through the day

i think that's really all idk, there's more i was gonna say but i can't really remember plus this is already super long jfc, i don't expect anyone to actually read this, i just wanted it off my chest and i don't really trust talking to many people about this kinda stuff

#gvtz #gvtz life #gvtz vents #gvtz rambles #tw mental health #tw pet death #tw family death #tw child abuse #tw childhood trauma #tw ed #tw sh related #tw sui attempt #tw overdose #tw alcohol #tw weed #tw addiction #tw medicine misuse

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multi-fandom-simp · 1 year ago

Text

My soul, my heart, my fault

Part 1/3

Jacearys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader (platonic, sisterly), Lucerys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader(Platonic, sisterly), Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader(mentioned throughout)

-Reader is Laenor's legitimate child in both past and present parts of this fic.-

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: What's dead, is supposed to stay dead. However, the fates decide to make an exception in the case of your younger sibling's unjust deaths. You, who lived through the dance of the dragons, are brought back for the soul purpose of watching them grow again...or perhaps it was die again, you couldn't quite remember. (This will be a three part series)

Side Note: The areas in italics are memories, or moments of the past.

❗TW❗: Mentions of character death and actual character death, murder, angst, blood, incest?(I mean reader was Aemond's niece in past mentions), angst

(A/N: Hello! This is the first HOTD fic I've posted where the reader has a set house and set parent, but nonetheless I am not forcing you to imagine those specifics as their appearance. The reader's legitimate father in this story is Laenor. Simply because I feel like I don't see enough stories/fics with a true Velaryon reader. That being said, if you have any other fic Recs or even requests that involve a Velaryon reader, please send them my way👀. I've also thought about making a series involving a pair of Velaryon twins, so I'd love to know if anyone would be interested in that. Aside from my rambles, I tagged this as both Velaryon reader and just reader so that people may read it if they please. As always, I love to hear your thoughts and see your reactions, enjoy!)

Word Count: 3,924

“Kepus” Your small voice echoed overtop the waves that surrounded your father.

Laenor, who had been previously focused on the sea turned at your call,“ Yes, Tala”

You stumbled through the water until you were able to cling to his side,“ Why do they whisper about Jace and Luke?”

“ Because your brothers are different” Your father explained softly. His hand swept lovingly over the back of your head as you gazed up at him.

“ How so?”

His hands came down to cradle your face,“ It matters not. What matters, is that they are still your brothers. You must not let the whispers get between you and them.”

“ Nothing could ever take me from them, Kepa, I promise” Your tone was fierce, just like the blood that ran through your veins. Laenor smiled and squatted to your level, paying no mind to the water that soaked his clothes. He seemed to study you for a second as if he was committing the moment to memory.

Finally, he took a breath to speak,“ That’s good because you must protect them, Tala. You are their big sister, their fate rests with you.”

“ I can no-” Your father was quick to spot your hesitancy. The hands that once held your face now held your hands. While his features remained soft, fear was evident in his eyes.

“ -You must have no doubts. Doubts lead to death, and fate is already not on your side. Heed my words, Tala, history will repeat itself,” Whether or not he was referring to him and Laena or you and the boys, you’ll never know. What you did know was that history indeed would repeat itself.

In 129 AC, you watched your brother Lucerys Velaryon die, and in 2006 you welcomed him as he was born again as your cousin. Three-year-old you was immensely confused on why these people kept referring to him as your cousin, but as you got older you came to the realization that no one else remembered who they were and that things were different. Whilst Laenor Velayron remained your father, Rhaenyra Targaryen was not your mother. In all honesty, you were not sure who your mother was. One thing was for certain though, your brothers had been taken from you. They now grew up in a different house with no memories of all you did for them eons ago. It was as if fate itself had placed a curse on you. Still, you weren’t one to let the gods dictate your life. Once your eleventh birthday came around, you begged Nyra to let you babysit the two youngest boys. She agreed without hesitation and suddenly you were back to seeing the boys almost every other day rather than in the summers. You thought you had outsmarted time and fate themselves. Six years went by and you had managed to watch the boys grow without problems. Well aside from the fact that your father and Viserys had agreed that you and Aemond would be together for the sake of both the Velaryon and Targaryen dynasties. That was six months ago, and everything had started to decline since then. Your father had mysteriously vanished, Rhaenyra’s husband Harwin had died, and tensions between the families were at an all-time high. It wasn’t Aemond’s fault per se, he was a great partner, but you knew how this went. In the end, you would be torn between his family and your own. More specifically between your brothers and him. The mere thought of it all happening again sent your stomach into knots. If only there were a way to prevent everything, prevent time from repeating itself. Maybe then you could save your brother-

" Hellooo, are you there? Hey-" Your thoughts vanished as Jace came into view. Were you having a nightmare again? No, surely not in the middle of the day, not while the boys were here.

The realization of your whereabouts sat you upright, forcing your eyes to the couch where you had last left the youngest boys, who still sat there much to your relief,"-Shit, sorry! Did I space off again?"

"You looked like you were asleep with your eyes open, to be honest," Jace snorted, his hair was wet and a gym bag hung from his shoulder, " Rough night?"

His question was answered with a groan as you laid your cheek against the cool countertop, "I’ll take that as a yes?"

"Every night is a rough night when you have nightmares like mine" You mumble between the space in your arms, “Do you ever have weird dreams, Jace?”

Jace sat beside you, mirroring the position you had slumped into. You turned your face towards him as he spoke, "I had a dream once where I was in archery club...but I was naked, like bare as can be-"

"-You can not be serious"

"Oh but I am, and my grandfather's creepy friend Otto was the teacher. It was definitely weird, but I didn't lose sleep over it" Jace shrugged.

" Why are you guys talking like that?" Both you and Jace lift your heads to face Luke. The curly-haired boy stood on the other side of the kitchen island with his eyebrows raised.

You shrugged, “Why are you not talking like this?”

“ Because I’m a normal human being?” He questioned sarcastically, “ anyways, while I have the attention-”

“You always have the attention” Jace scoffs.

You nod in agreement,“ Mhm, it’s because he’s the favorite.”

“ Can I talk or..” Luke stands there staring at the two of you patiently, much like his mother would. Actually, it reminds you of the first time Nyra caught you sneaking the boys into the kitchens during the hour of the owl.

“You must be very quiet. Some say the kitchen maids have special abilities that let them know food has been stolen” You whisper to the boys with a suppressed grin. Each of them held lemon tarts as you securely closed the door.

Luke’s doe eyes widen with fear, “Do you think they’re witches? Will they curse us?”

“ The kitchen maids are not the ones you should be worried about” The three of you whipped around at the sound of your mother’s voice. She stood tall in the firelight, a red robe covering her as she stared down expectantly.

A nervous grin stretched across your features, “ Muna! We were just collecting lemon tarts to bring to you!”

“ You know, your father has this knack for flattering me when he’s trying to cover a lie. It would be a shame for my daughter to try and do the same” She hummed suspiciously.

“ I would never!” You cringed as you realized how identical you sounded to your kepa, “Alright, we were trying to sneak lemon tarts for ourselves, but it won’t happen again! ”

“ If you were still hungry, you should have told me so. Now, Jace, Luke, take the tarts to your chambers and go to bed please.” The boys bid Rhaenyra a good night and took off down the hall swiftly.

Your fingers fiddled with your nightdress nervously, “ I’m sorry, I did not mean to cause trouble.”

“ Oh my heart, you did not cause trouble. It is natural to sneak out at a young age, but you need to be careful here. There are people in this world who seek to hurt your brothers, and you must be their protector.” She cooed, her thumb stroking your cheek.

The fire in your eye returned once more, “ No one will hurt them. Not while I’m by their side.”

“-I’m starting to think she had a medical condition at this point” It was Jace once again who pulled you from the past, but with Luke beside him this time. The two of them both stared at you with confusion. The dry itch in your eyes became apparent as you came back into focus.

“ Maybe she’s just tired from dealing with Aemond all the time-”

You cut off Luke’s jest with a groan, “ Okay, can we not start up the hate train for my boyfriend today? I was just daydreaming, good gods.”

“ No need to start the train up when it was never off in the first place” Jace spoke teasingly. Any rebuttals that were set to come from your mouth were ceased by the constant buzzing from your phone, which laid on the counter for everyone to see.

Luke’s eyes bugged at the sight of Aemond’s contact,“ ñuha zaldrīzes?! You call him your drag-”

“Shut up!” You reached over to slap a hand over his mouth as you answered the phone, “ Aem, hey, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on? Have you looked at the time recently?” looking over to the clock, your face fell. It was twenty past seven, which meant you were twenty minutes late to your dinner with Aemond.

“I thought you would be here as soon as Jace got home, has he not arrived yet?” From beside you, Jace held a thumbs up, as if he was allowing you to use him as an excuse.

“He was a little late getting home and then we got to talking and I just-”

Aemond’s sigh drowned out your words, “-Lost track of time, yeah. It seems like that happens a lot when you’re with them.”

The boy’s watched as you visibly deflated, “Aemond, that’s not fair.”

“ Not fair? You constantly put me second to them. I am- your husband and lover. Sooner or later you will have to choose, either me or them, and I will not tolerate a bastard being put before me. Not in this lifetime or the next.”

“You are being unreasonable, Aemond!”

“ The unreasonable one is you! There is a war afoot and you insist on playing both sides. If you think this will end in a happy ever after..then you’re- mistaken. Are you even listening? Hello?” Time was running out and you could feel it. The last time Aemond had spoken those words, Luke had ended up dead hours later. With fear clouding your judgment you hung up without another word. Which probably didn’t help the situation, but what else could you do? Tell Luke what you thought would happen? No, he was only fifteen, he would be terrified. You couldn’t tell Jace, because as close as the two of you were he would still think you’re crazy. And Aemond, he was absolutely out of the question. Accusing him of something like that would drive the wedge further between the two of you.

“ You must protect them, Tala. You are their big sister, their fate rests with you.” What if I don’t know how?

“There are people in this world who seek to hurt your brothers, and you must be their protector” How can I be their protector when I brought the danger to them? Is it me? Am I the variable that needs to be changed? What if I take Luke’s place?

“ Luke-” Your throat tightened as you looked forward. The spot Luke previously stood in was empty, as was Jace’s spot beside you, “ Luke?!”

Jace reappeared from behind you,“ He went out to ride his bike.”

Confusion and worry clouded your eyes,“ It’s raining, he can’t possibly ride in this weather?!”

Jace shrugged, “I suppose the rain didn’t matter after he heard your conversation with Aemond.”

“Wha-” Fear suffocated your heart like a python. He wouldn’t confront Aemond over a silly argument, would he?

“ Before you ask, no I did not just let him walk out the door to go confront our sociopathic uncle. He isn’t that fast of a peddler, so I’ll just catch up to him in the car” You snatched the keys from Jace’s hand before he could even finish his next thought.

“ Hey-”

“- This is my fault, I’ll fix it” You spoke while making a beeline for the front door, “ I promise I’ll bring the car back in one piece, and Luke too!” You didn’t wait for Jace to reply, there was no need. Nothing he could say would change your mind.

The rain barely touched you, that’s how fast you had made it to the car. You used one hand to whip out onto the street as your other hand pulled up Aemond’s contact. It rang four, five times before going to voicemail. You tried again and again to no avail before it finally went through.

“ Hello? Aemond?” Your voice was as shaky as the car on the slick roads.

“ Are you going to hang up on me again?” His tone was short, meaning he was upset.

“ No, I was just overwhelmed-” The familiar click of a turning signal sounded throughout the car, but you weren’t turning, “ Aemond, please tell me you’re at home.”

“ I’m not. I’m on my way to pick you up” Oh gods. You couldn’t do this, not now. Why was it all happening so fast?

“ I’m not there. I went out to look for Luke. Just go back home and I will meet you there” You pleaded, which was entirely out of character for you.

“I’m not far-”

“-Aemond, please! Just this once, listen to me” You hoped the urgency in your voice would persuade him to listen. Alas, it did not, and part of you knew it wouldn’t.

“The rain is too thick to turn back now. I can barely see anything as it is” Aemond argued, “ I’ll wait at the boy’s house until you get back. I promise I won’t do anything, I won’t even get out of the car.”

Your fear regressed a little. If Aemond was out of the way, then nothing could possibly happen. This could work, or so you thought. Straight ahead, racing through the storm was Lucerys. He was completely drenched from what you could tell and barely pedaling straight. You hit the brakes and jumped out of the car.

“ Luke, get in the car!” The storm roared loudly over your voice, but he still managed to hear you.

Luke shook his head, “ I won’t let him treat you like that, not again.”

“What do you mean not again?” That’s when you noticed, Luke’s eyes were different, older, “You remember, don’t you?”

He nodded slowly, unsurely, “ When Aegon hit my head against the table at dinner last week it all came flooding back. I thought they were dreams at first, but then I noticed how different you acted. How you had changed then to now.”

“ You never said anything”

“I didn’t know that you remembered, I’m sorry” He apologized through chattering teeth.

You smiled softly, “ It doesn’t matter anymore, just come with me. Let me take you back home.”

That’s when Luke’s own smile fell, “ I can’t. I ran away from him the first time, but not this time.”

“ That wasn’t your fault, Luke. I was the one who told you to run, so please, just- take my hand!"

"I won't leave Arrax!" Luke screamed from below you, ignoring the hand that you held down towards him.

"Vhagar is set to kill Arrax. You must take my hand Lucerys, please!" Eyes as green as sea moss flashed through the heavy downpour like lightning. Eyes that held fear that chilled your bones more than the freezing rain. Next came the hand, the hand that held scars from dragon riding yet looked as soft as a handful of clouds. You reached for it amidst the haze, only it never seemed to get any closer.

“Reach further-” and that’s when you saw it, rather than when you saw him. It was Aemond atop Vhagar who appeared in what seemed like a split second. Your heartbeat quickened and you reached for Lucerys once more, except something was blinding you this time- headlights, that’s what was in your way. The beams of light raced down the street with no intention of slowing down. You would be worried about them hitting you if Luke wasn’t in between their path and you. Like before, you weren’t fast enough. Every step you took towards your brother seemed to push him father away.

“Lucerys, Move!” Your screams mingled with his as he turned too late. In what seemed like slow motion you watched as Luke rolled atop the car as it completely mangled his bike. Much to your horror, the driver slammed on their brakes, propelling Luke forward.

“No!” Your feet were moving before your brain could even process what happened, “ No, no, no, please no.”

The pavement cut into your knees as you knelt beside Luke. You pulled his head to rest on your knees, paying no mind to the blood that soaked through your pants. His eyes were open, yet lifeless. The vibrant green that they held before now shone as a dull gray. You leaned down to place your ear on his chest. Nothing. Not a single sound.

“ Lucerys please, you can’t leave me again, “ Your tears mixed with the rain, “ Come back to me, Ñuha prūmia”

“ You did well, Ñuha prūmia. Do not fret” Your sincere words traveled in one ear and out the other for Lucerys. Jace had beaten him at dueling practice yet again.

He scrunched his nose as your endearment, “ Must you call me that? It sounds girly.”

“It is a simple endearment, I mean no harm to your pride. I refer to you as my heart in the same manner that I call Jacaerys my soul” You explain softly, reaching over to ruffle his curls.

“What is Joffrey then?”

“I’m not sure,” You hum in thought, “ Perhaps he is my mind.”

He peers up at you in curiosity, “Which of the three would you say that you can not live without?”

“Mhm, my heart would be the answer. I fear I’d go mad if I ever lost you.” His cherubic smile faded to a bloody gasp. The sight alone smothered out the fire in your heart and set off a drum in your skull.

“ Is he alright? I couldn’t see him through the rain. I swear- oh gods…” Whilst still regaining focus where you sat on Storms End Avenue, you looked up to see none other than Aemond Targaryen speaking to you through the rain. His hair lay limp against his face, almost covering the grim expression he held, which seemed to darken as you came into view. You gently laid Lucerys’s head on the road below before standing on shaky legs.

“ Don’t. Don’t you dare tell me it was an accident, not again” You advanced toward Aemond until the tip of your finger dug into his chest. The patience you once had now worn thin and making way for eons of repressed anger and guilt.

Confusion danced across Aemond’s face, “ Again? What are you talking about-”

“Stop acting like you do not know!” You screamed, shoving him backward, “ I am tired of everyone acting like they know nothing when everything else is happening according to the past!”

“We can talk this out, just calm down” Aemond almost sounded like he was pleading as he reached out for you, but in truth, Aemond never pleaded to anyone. Not even the woman he claimed to love.

"Calm down?! I am to watch my brothers be murdered AGAIN and you want me to CALM DOWN?! You are wrong if you think I will sit by an.. and.. a-", the longer you stood, the worse your vision got. At this point, the pounding in your head had gotten so loud that your vision swayed. Through the dark spots blotting your eyes, you could see silhouettes of dragons dancing in the clouds and the water surrounding you turning red. Everything began to feel weightless, except your head of course.

“ Woah, hey” Aemond was there to catch you as you crumbled, “ Keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m going to call for help, but I need you to stay awake.”

You tried to stay awake, you really did, but it was all too much. The weight of it all dragged you into the darkness without a fight. It was hours before you awoke, and when you did it was in a hospital bed. A warm weight against your leg is the first thing your brain registers. Well, that and the blinding white hue of the hospital walls.

"Luke.." your throat was dry and scratchy, almost as if you had been screaming for days. Your eyes surveyed the room wearily until they landed on Jace. He must have been the warmth you were feeling. His arms lay atop the bed next to you, crossed snuggly beneath his head. You could tell the skin around his eyes was puffy and red despite them being closed. He had been crying, but over what? Was it Luke? Had last night not been just another nightmare of the past? You reached out, brushing against Jacaerys arm lightly, but still firm enough to rouse him from his sleep.

His eyes fluttered for a moment before fully snapping open, "You're awake!"

" I don't remember falling asleep.." you spoke in true confusion.

Jace's eyes seemed to soften, whether or not it was in pity or sadness you did not know," You didn't fall asleep, you collapsed. Aemond brought you in-"

" and Luke? " A part of you couldn't help but be hopeful. If you couldn't remember passing out, then perhaps Luke's death was a hallucination of your foggy memory as well. Even if the look in Jace's eyes already told you differently.

" They said he was dead upon impact. Aemond killed him." your heartbeat picked up on the monitor as Jace spoke, "I know it's not what you want you to hear, and that you love Aemond, but it's true."

"Aemond claims that he didn't see him in time. That the rain made the roads too slick and that he lost control of the car, but he’s lying" Jace seethed, paying no mind to your reaction.

"Jace-"

His eyes held fire and the smallest hint of disbelief as they flickered back to you, "Please don't defend him. Whatever you're going to say, just don't. My mother has already retaliated and I've opened a lawsuit against Aemond. There's nothing else you can say."

" You don't know that unless you let me speak" You waited for a beat of silence before continuing, "I was not going to defend Aemond. On the contrary, I was going to tell you that it wasn't an accident. It's just like before."

Jace s eyes widened, " Like before? Has Aemond killed someone else?"

You shake your head quickly, "No, not this lifetime. You misunderstand, I'm talking about when he killed Lucerys the first time."

" I'm not sure what you're talking about. None of this has ever happened before-"

The patience you once had before Lucerys's death is now long gone, "-Yes it has! You just have to remember, like Luke did. I need you to remember Jace, please, before the same happens to you."

Jace leans forward to encase both of your shaking hands," If it's the lawsuit that troubles you, then you need not worry. Nothing is going to happen to me. I've taken many precautions. Otto Hightower has agreed to meet us halfway to our beach house in Dragonstone to receive the papers. He's bringing Criston Cole as a witness and I'm bringing Corlys. Everything will run smoothly."

Halfway to Dragonstone, the gullet. You sucked in a trembling breath as images of Jacaerys' arrow-riddled body flashed before your eyes. He was close to his death and yet he didn't remember, not like Lucerys did. You were the only one left with the knowledge of what was to come… Or So you thought.

#hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys x reader #velaryon reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon!reader #Lucerys Velaryon x velaryon!reader #hotd angst #angst

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dootznbootz · 2 months ago

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Can I ask why you hate OdyDio? I’m not super familiar with Greek mythology yet, and I’ve seen OdyDio as fairly popular so I’m curious about the other side lol (I personally don’t ship it just because I can’t imagine Odysseus with anyone other than Penelope tbh).

Because people are literally mischaracterizing both Odysseus and Diomedes to make it work and it spits in the face of what Homophrosyne means 🙃

And people are nuts about it in a way that pisses me off more than any other NOTP/crackship I've had before.

I guess this post, This one, and This one that people have done about vague fandom is a good explanation if that's all you want as I do rant here lol. NGL, I don't...really care if I'm being mean right now. Like block, unfollow, or ignore me. I wanna rant.

Btw, yeah, I'm being a "hater" but I'll tag right so you can block "#anti odydio" if you must.

I already didn't care for it in the first place, (I've vented about it before) as I agree, OdyPen are literally soulmates. To the point where they have their own WORD for their love. And yet people will fucking insist that "Oh, Odysseus and Diomedes are more compatible". WHERE?

The Odyssey is literally about him trying to go back home to Penelope and their son. And even in the Iliad, Odysseus mentions her. The Odyssey only mentions Diomedes three times and never once by Odysseus (once by Nestor, twice by Menelaus) so... that goes to show how Odysseus feels about him. 🤷 Kind of wild that Odysseus mentions his wife multiple times in both works but says fuck all about his war co-worker. Menelaus was the one who talked about Odysseus so warmly in the Odyssey as well. Y'all just don't "blorbo" him enough to pair him with Odysseus.

I was just neutral about the ship existing because it's like one of those absurd crackships to me but with how popular, fanonized, and just...With HOW people have behaved about it to me ;~;

Ofc, I'm a huge Penelope fan but even with Diomedes, you can't go into his tag without OdyDio. I'm not even joking. I'm sad I've had to block Diomedes' tag as well because people don't tag right AND don't apparently see him as more than Odysseus' "fling" ;~; (I mean at least Penelope and Diomedes can relate to the fact that it sucks that a lot of people are only caring about them because of Odysseus and not because of who they are. :/ )

Just in general, with my own reading of the Iliad, I...WHERE?! xD Where is the "ship"? They are comrades and they're very different from one another personality wise. Sure, they're a good team in combat but in life??? They are not "likeminded" at ALL.

They also have a fairly large agegap, Odysseus being one of the older kings while Diomedes is one of the youngest. I have them around a decade apart in my writing If you bring up pederasty, you will be smited. You're fucking disgusting.

They also have very little in common other than them both being Athena's pets (which um. Penelope is one too, you know?). Odysseus is a fucked up lil warrior trickster who loves his wife and child more than life itself while Diomedes is a young child soldier boy who is incredibly duty bound and war is where he feels most comfortable.

Diomedes would not put up with Odysseus' rambling about his family and Odysseus WANTS to talk about that. They're co-workers.

Diomedes is a younger king who looks up to all these older and more experienced kings. "Notice me, senpai" energy, and I love it!

And I really hate this "Male/Male relationships didn't 'count' back then so it's not cheating!" like, it may not have counted THEN but it should count NOW. Male/Male relationships have counted to THOSE COUPLES and it has ALWAYS counted. Like by saying that, you're already fucking undermining this supposed beautiful relationship by saying "It wasn't seen as real :3 ".

Like is it a real relationship, important and meaningful for both, in which yeah, Odysseus IS emotionally and physically cheating. (unless Pen and him have agreed to be Poly which yes! Go forth if that's the case! :D Give Penny a GF too!) or was it a casual thing that actual just meant "nothing", therefore OdyDio means nothing? WHICH IS IT?!

Like Admit and have fun with a crackship and then yeah, just do it because you find it hot. You don't have to pull stuff outta nowhere in order to have fun with a CRACKSHIP.

OR delve into the possible feelings of Odysseus feeling like he's betraying Penelope by falling in love with another or whatever! And if it's just "casual fucking", y'all. He's fucking married and deeply in love. Have OdyPen KNOW they can both be casual so she won't feel betrayed when he tells her "Oh yeah, me and this guy were fucking during the war. :) Yeah, I fell in love with him too! Wait, why are you mad at me?"

As from what I know, with kings especially, you did NOT interact with someone like that of the same rank without consequences of being ridiculed by the others. Odysseus is older and more respected than Diomedes, and Diomedes, who is TRYING to prove himself, would not want to be with another king as that would make people respect him less! If you want to write about it, at least delve into that possible JUICY type of drama that would occur with a CRACKSHIP relationship like this! It's okay to ship something JUST because it's a fetish y'all!

like I have no respect for guys who are supposed to be Wifeguys who don't hold true to that with a "eh but it's 20 years so I just gotta keep myself busy so I don't think about it and blah blah" OK so a man with no self-control? Wonderful. A weak willed, casual, irreverent cheater? Lovely. Fuck whoever that is. That's Not Odysseus. That's a fucking OC at this point.

That's just the Canon texts itself as to why I just simply disliked it. The fandom was... yeah ;~; made me hate that it even exists. (Not all! Some of y'all are incredibly kind and respectful of boundaries and I appreciate that! It's just that...Some were not.)

I mean I've had to deal with Aphobia surrounding my OdyPen and along with some asks/people in the past who were TRYING to make me write about OdyDio despite the fact that I've never liked it.

"Hey, I know you don't like this thing, but maybe THIS will change your mind. You have fun ideas so I wanna see what you do with OdyDio!"

Do you know how shitty that feels? 😞 To have people, WHO KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING, try to make you like it? By sending you links and "headcanons" that will "still work in your writing?" Sending in your asks, DMING YOU SOMETIMES.

That was like, half a year ago and thankfully it's stopped for the most part but I was in such a funk that I didn't even wanna write ANYTHING for a while.

Funny enough? I USED to have this "Oh, Odysseus and Diomedes are exes who fucking hate each other." idea where I aged up Diomedes to make it work, which I now no longer have because I realized I only wrote that way because I thought I HAD to in order to get people to be nice to me. ;~; Because if they're romantic at some point but simply don't click, maybe that'll be enough. To get people to just shut up and stop sending me things. (fuck the anon who sent smut last December. you suck.)

I changed that (now it's Greater Ajax who's his ex. lol. idk ask about it if you want.) because I realized yeah, it was making me unhappy and because I felt like I HAD to. ;~;

I also think it's weirdly because some Odysseus fans almost block out the Odyssey, you know, HIS story, and pretend like he didn't do everything to get home to his loved ones.

I've seen some ridiculous shit about Penelope as well. >:( like holy shit, misogyny everywhere.

"Oh, she didn't trust him and made him cry when she tricked him. She's abusive!" Literally one of the most stupid things I've ever fucking heard. She HAD to be sure it was him and when she knows for sure, she apologizes, explains, and kisses him. Kisses that he desperately and happily returns btw.

"After all Odysseus goes through from the Goddesses, he's afraid of women so he and Penelope separate." ...WHAT?! He literally wants to "embrace in love in their bed" as soon as they stop crying! And she holds him back only to know Tiresias' prophecy, which he DOES TELL HER BTW, before they DO "show love".

"Penelope becomes Odysseus' and Diomedes' surrogate!" ...Wow. Just wow. Love how people will talk about how ancient men in the past only saw women as "breeders" as though they're any fucking different with THIS fucking take.

It's annoying that I'll post a headcanon on tumblr and then the tags are "This but with OdyDio." or that people will often only like/reblog my ODYSSEUS shit and not my Penelope. ;~;

I love how people will be adamant about how "Odysseus never cheated" (true), and yet have him with Diomedes :/ Like at LEAST have OdyPen agree to have an open marriage before they're separated if you're going to pull that stance. (also give Penelope a girlfriend if Odysseus gets a boyfriend, you cowards.)

So many people for some reason only see Penelope for what she is for her husband and that's all. As though that's all she is. And as if Odysseus isn't as intertwined with her as she is with him.

Even with OdyPenDio. I've noticed that it mostly means "OdyDio + Penelope in the fujoshi cuck chair." I've only heard about ONE fic where it's actually about PenDio. (In which Author, you give me hope. It's not my thing but thank you for writing that. <3 The "Sidepieces" deserve love too.) It feels like people masking micro misogyny by forcing M/F couples to be throuples with the man they’d rather see the dude with. Or acting like the only way to enjoy a couple is to make them gay by erasing the woman entirely 🤮

I just... stdrfgyh ;~; I wouldn't hate it so much if people were nice about someone not liking it but the fact that I literally cannot escape it and because some people were just so pushy, I just negative memories I guess.

Either way, I love Diomedes and Sthenelus together :) whether as a QPR or romantic or whatever, those two are like bonded pairs that cannot be adopted separately.

Heck I'll say it. If you want a "casual dipshits who are kind of awful and toxic to each other" I think Diomedes x Achilles is a MUCH more fun and interesting crackship. I could go on but yeah. I'm done :)

#*sighs*#I'm sorry but also not. skldjf #i'm so tired #Anon don't feel bad about this btw. <3 I'm the one being the bitch. lol #anon #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #anti odydio #idk feel like I should tag this. that's what's polite.#essay #ask #Mad rants #notp

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jennilah · 5 months ago

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hi there!

please do share your thoughts on canon vs non canon (TO YOU) scenes from saw if you feel like it

this seems like a fun topic to explore 👁

i was thinking about this all day im gonna hella ramble too much

to reiterate and expand on what i kinda said in that post's tags: im genuinely cautious when it comes to the canonicity of deleted scenes and script changes for most things because, well, things dont get included in the final product for a reason sometimes.

trust me i know about deleted scenes. ive had months of work erased from existence because of deleted scenes. and sometimes it really was for the best

and im equally if not more skeptical of things like.. lore coming from outside sources. if its not in the original media, its questionable. film novelizations, game adaptions, spin-off comics, all that stuff is usually written by some third party with little to no input from the real writers. unless it gets some serious seal of approval and that shit actually gets referenced in the next film, then im like "ok im listening." Otherwise, i shrug it all off as maybe-canon side adventures until contradicted

THAT SAID

sometimessss those nuggets of lore or characterization from deleted scenes/iffy canon off-shoot material are sick af so we just kind of adopt it anyway!!! we all do it!!!

ALSO

FUCKIN. The goddamn Saw franchise makes me insane with the different cuts of each film so we basically choose our favorite canon already. so. its a bit loosey goosey here sometimes

ok first of all i KNOW im gonna forget things so imma just kind of list and describe what i can remember off the top of my head. i dont actually have things like the scripts memorized i only know some moments that get passed around between us little freaks like drugs

like this one

i dont care if this doesnt happen on-screen in Saw IV, it happens in my heart

and this little bit of characterization from all 3 goofballs here despite us not really seeing much of it in the film:

Strahm being a butthead just interrupting Perez and Hoffman having a nice little talk because he hates his ass so much

Hoffman being more of the annoying little flirt that i know he is in my heart

Perez being charmed by him, the two of them having a cute little bonding moment as acquaintances for a moment there, and then STRAHM AGAIN being a butthead

i love them. i LOVE THEM

its very important to me that Perez kind of liked Hoffman. it makes his betrayal hurt so much more

this whole moment. i love this. ough. as much as i loved this scene already, in my head i pretend the scene played out like this....

falls onto his ass

angel of death

my fucking goodness

also, i cant list off everything because theres so much its a little depressing, but there's a lot going on in the Saw 3D script that is tragically cool. they really leaned into Hoffman going off the deep end and i enjoyed that. and how grisly his scar was originally supposed to be, and the symbolism with his declining mental state. and his interactions with Lawrence being a little more fleshed out. its just kind of neat. i think the film would have been a bit stronger if they stuck closer to a few of their earlier ideas

edit: OH MY GOD HOW CAN I FORGET ABOUT DELETED FILMED SCENES LIKE THE ROCKSTAR MOMENT. THAT HAPPENED OK U CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. and amanda is 100% haunted by what she did to Adam

and as for spin-offs that are absolutely not canon, this description of Hoffman from the video game from Tapp's POV is intriguing.

i love annoying and weird colleague Hoffman but i also really enjoy the idea of shy and weird colleague Hoffman.

also, boring cop Hoffman who wont bend the rules? that is so much more interesting than the hashtag brutality moment.

too bad this game is like. well. yknow. not very good. i dont think thats a controversial statement

but you know what IS good?

Saw the Musical

thats canon to me. no notes

#saw #jenna answers #jennilargh #mark hoffman #peter strahm

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nipuni · 1 year ago

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im sure you get this question all the time but how do you go about procuring those amazing outfits? do you thrift, get things tailored, make items yourself? do you buy things as you go or do you search for specific items one at the time? it's just that id love to have a style like yours (but masc haha) and i always wonder how you do it because i wouldn't know where to get clothes such as you wear anywhere, let alone for a price i can afford. and also, now im here, thank you for your amazing art, it always brightens my day when you post <3

Hello! 🥰 I collect pieces from different places that I feel fit the aesthetic I created for myself, kind of like character design, and I stick to certain silhouettes and color palettes that I already know I will feel comfortable in.

In my case I go for structured pieces instead of flowy draping ones, plain colors over patterns unless it's straight lines, earth and jewel tones on the warmer and muted side, medium height heels, gold over silver, etc. All of this makes for safe purchases for me no matter the store or outfit

Most of my clothes I buy from the historical reproduction shops I list under my posts ( I made a list some time ago here and also in the tags of each post as well as in my Instagram )

Some of these shops are on the more expensive side but offer custom tailoring which is ideal and a must for me because I'm built weird 😅 so I try to get my staple pieces there and plan the whole outfit around it before purchasing.

Then you can get the basic pieces to complete the looks from regular stores! stuff like plain shirts and trousers I usually get from places like Zara

I also thrift at curated stores which makes it easier to find interesting pieces (Edwardian revival from the 70's, capes, belts, handkerchiefs, scarves, bags and hats are some of the things I go for) I don't go with an outfit plan in mind for this, I just look around every once in a while and see what I can find and what I can do with it since it's usually very cheap too. I've also found that thrifting for masc clothes is way easier (at least where I live?) for some reason. I go antique shopping for accessories too, hats and pins from the 20's!!

Then the more specific and inexpensive stuff to tie the outfits together I get from aliexpress, (like the clock bags) and for blouses I also shop at lolita stores online sometimes

When it comes to planning outfits I just play dress up in front of the mirror like you see in the videos I make, I pull out a bunch of stuff from my closet and start matching. it helps me see what I'm missing or what colors would work best or which cut or fit creates an interesting look. It also helps you see and remember everything you have so when you are shopping or dressing up to go out you have this mental library and know whether something new will fit in with your wardrobe or not.

I also got a sewing machine some time ago and I'm teaching myself to sew! So far I've only fixed mine and my husband's clothes to make them fit but I'd love to move on to making my own clothes eventually!

I think that cultivating a personal style makes shopping for clothes easier and allows you to invest in pieces you know you will keep without fear of them going out of style and you don't feel the pressure to update your whole wardrobe every year. it's also super fun and has helped me build confidence and feel a lot more at peace with my appearance. I hope any of this helps you 😭 I rambled a lot I'll stop now!! Thank you so much for the kind words!! ❤️❤️❤️

#nips replies #this is so long why am I this insufferable

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vasito-de-leche · 8 months ago

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i just realized something from each arcanist's voiceline, im not sure if u are ahead of me in this but anyways...

...their "monologue" segments, each of their monologue segments their most vulnerable they have ever been or the deepest they have ever opened up, at least for the ones that I have read.

for example:

- pavia admitting that every night it feels like he's still in piedmonte (by extension, that boarded up basement)

- blonney thinking why it's impossible for humans and arcanists to get along when they have similar interests like movies

- mesmer jr. screaming to stop being insane and leave her alone (poor girl is traumatized and a big F you to constantine and her family for being persistent in putting her in those situations)

- sotheby in yet another scene about how little she knows about distinguishing human things and arcane things (which is a problem for a young arcanist like her should she be unintentionally blatant about it)

- horropedia being glad that he is still himself despite the foundation's attempt to fit him in a mold

all in all, "monologue" segments are actually sad bits about our faves

A good chunk of the monologues are tragic, yeah - but I think that it's because we have the benefit of the full picture and we each have our own interpretations!

I just don't like to think of monologues as just exclusively sad bits for characters to show how sad they are or used to be in their lives? It takes away the nuance of how the character speaks about these things, if that makes sense!

I'll put the rest of my thoughts and ramblings under the cut so I don't keep clogging the main tag with nonsense <3

For example, Pavia's monologue - a popular interpretation of his character is that he's still traumatized by his past and the time he spent in the basement, therefore his monologue implies that no matter where he goes, he's still alone in that dark basement. From my personal reading on it, Pavia is a character who reclaimed the things that hurt him (the darkness, the isolation) and are now part of him (his wolves and shadow arcanum, his independence).

So to me, that monologue is a threat. I already explained this in detail in my first Pavia posts, so I'll spare y'all from the repetition lolol

Sotheby's monologue - you say that her lack of knowledge when it comes to differentiate human things from arcanist things is a problem. To me, this quote is just a highlight of her curiosity and her sheltered life, because she sounds chipper at the idea of learning new things. And I think it's a monologue meant to focus on her curiosity, because her Insight II is "World on the Other Side" which shows Sotheby inside a glass cage, looking outside to the real world.

The outside world is different from what I imagined. There are more arcane animals than I thought ... Humans are also more interesting!

And one can still continue to look deeper into this monologue and relate it to the full context of her situation to have a different reading!

Maybe someone else thinks this quote is extremely fucking tragic, because we're talking about a rich, privileged and sheltered girl who relied heavily on her caretaker, Mr. Karson, and now that he's gone, she's left to explore the world all on her own! Maybe it's a really lovely and happy quote, because it shows Sotheby's growth, still excited to learn about the outside world! Maybe it's all at once!

And Blonney's monologue, to me that's not a tragic voiceline at all but a rather hopeful moment for Blonney, a moment of thoughtful consideration which contrasts the "Blonde Bimbo" stereotype she's been cast in and shows how observant and attentive to detail she can be.

Is it true that humans and arcanists cannot live in harmony? We have so many things in common to share and enjoy, like the movies. As I learned about humans from the movies, so can humans learn about arcanists ... It's just that no one has made such a movie yet.

From my reading on this monologue, Blonney very clearly believes it's possible for humans and arcanists to live in harmony - it only takes for both sides to consider each other's perspectives. She's lived among humans, she's learned about humans through their movies. But she's ignorant about arcanists because of the way she was raised, because of the lack of exposure she's had to arcanists and their world.

No one has made such a movie, but maybe her, an arcanists that's experienced the duality of everything, a bimbo who is majoring in film, a major that everyone insists is wrong for her because it doesn't fit her image - maybe she can make such movie.

Yes, it's a sad monologue because of the context of subtle oppression towards arcanists, because of what we know about Blonney's life and all. But to me, it doesn't end on a sad note. Especially with how driven and outspoken Blonney is.

It's the same for Horropedia's monologue for me - yes, he's serious when talking about the way the Foundation and the way they continue to cut away all the unwanted parts of the arcanists they take in, but it also ends on a nice note. He's relieved to have survived being true to himself, he's relieved Vertin was able to do the same.

And then there's Mesmer Jr.'s monologue - this one is, without a doubt, an awful moment for her. Given what we know about her background and family, from either the main story or the Three Doors update, we can safely assume this is her having a panic attack of sorts, steming from her trauma and long-term internalized hatred/fear/disgust towards arcanists.

This is the most objectively sad and tragic monologue out of these. But what of the reading?

Is this Mesmer Jr. being comfortable enough around Vertin to let her see such a violent and vulnerable moment? Someone could easily read this as Mesmer Jr. and Vertin's relationship being repaired slowly to allow such display of vulnerability, the same way someone could easily read this as Vertin just stumbling upon Mesmer Jr. having the worst time of her life. Someone might also interpret this as Vertin doing something that caused Mesmer Jr. to react like this!

A few other examples I have at the top of my head that can differ greatly depending on the way you choose to read it...

Bette's monologue, for example!

I've dreamt forever about my first character, not as a rich young man, a courageous adventurer, a fair or rich lady, but the first character starred by me, Bette with brown hair! I have noted them all in this notebook, which is called "My Script."

Is this voiceline sad? It can be, if you choose to intepret it as Bette's inability to get a starring role, while all of her dreams of being the protagonist are kept in a notebook that no one else will read or notice. It can also be inspiring, if you choose to interpret it as Bette holding on to the belief that she herself - not a character that she plays, but herself as a person - is important, even if no one else notices. Again, it can be this and that or both or none or all at once!

Or Baby Blue's monologue!

People at school once called me... Umm, how do you say that word? Ah... Crazy! Sad? I'm not sad... They told me that the most outstanding people were all crazy...

Yes, this can be sad, because we're talking about a 17 year old girl who was so disillusioned with her real life that she feels more comfortable in a world of illusion, while her real body remains comatose. And yes, this can be happy, because we're talking about a 17 year old girl who found a place that she truly feels alive in, where she finally has peope who understand and care for her.

I think I might've lost the point of the post somewhere through the rambling - but yeah! I don't like to think of these voicelines as just sad bits, especially with how much detail and attention the writing of R1999 has, all the love they put into all characters <3

#not a prompt #reverse 1999

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