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reunionatdawn · 11 months ago

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My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 16: Mercedes/Dedue)

Mercedes: If I were someone else, perhaps a commoner without a Crest or stature, maybe things would be different. It's a bit sad, but…this is the way things have to be. After all, only the goddess can decide our fates.

Each character in the Blue Lions was a victim of Faerghus's patriarchal culture. Mercedes was adopted for the purpose of being married off for her Crest. The Crest of Lamine is associated with the arcana of Judgement. It represents an important decision that needs to be made regarding love and romance. It also symbolizes a solution to a protracted problem, and a feeling of freedom.

Mercedes was separated from her brother at a young age and had to make a new life for herself in the Kingdom. What got her through those hard times was the support of the church. That's why her dream was to work there to help people, just as they did for her. But doing so would be difficult if she married a nobleman.

Mercedes: Though, just because two people share a promise, that doesn't guarantee they'll be together forever. You've noticed many nobles at the academy, right? They very rarely have the freedom to choose their own partners.

Mercedes had a lot in common with Ingrid. She did not want to give up on her dream to be used as a broodmare for her Crest, like her mother was. However, she felt like she had no choice.

Byleth: You can't just give up on your dreams. Mercedes: That's a very good point! We're only given one life, so we must do all we can to pursue our happiness! OK! I think that may have been just the push I was looking for! I'll tell him the truth. That I've found a life worth pursuing and I must decline the proposal! Maybe I should tell him I've fallen for someone else?

Mercedes had difficulty standing up to her adoptive father. She was willing to lie to him by telling him that she had fallen for someone else. That might explain many of her pairing options.

Ferdinand: You baffle me. Do you not wish to be free? Mercedes: Of course I do. Let me try that again in a way you might understand. Ahem. A true noble cuts their own path, seizing freedom from the clutches of tyranny!

I suspect that the reason she rejected Ferdinand's help to sever ties with her adoptive father was because she wasn't sure if his gesture was an attempt to woo her. She wasn't sure if she would have the will to decline if he proposed. In their paired ending, she severs ties with her adoptive father and marries him immediately after the war. She lives the traditional life of a noble wife while her husband is recognized for his achievements.

Mercedes: I don't care to flaunt my noble past or my Crest. I have no desire to return to that status. Lorenz: Then, if I may speak hypothetically a moment… Does that mean that if a nobleman were to offer you his hand in marriage, you would decline? Mercedes: Not at all. That's a separate matter entirely. Even if I were to fall in love, regardless of their social status… I'm not looking to marry right now.

Even by the end of their A-Support, she still didn't seem to like Lorenz very much. She was unusually sarcastic with him. And she specifically said she wasn't ready to marry even if she was in love. But it is still possible that she will marry Lorenz immediately after the war. It shows how difficult it was for her to deviate from her path.

Mercedes: …No, I'm glad. I feel like I saw your true face for the first time. …Hey, Sylvain. Would you be able to save me from the curse of my Crest? Sylvain: I…I'll save you! With my heart and soul! I love you! Great! Let's get married!

Mercedes also had a lot in common with Sylvain, and the two actually became close friends. They are both Gemini, the zodiac sign which is thought to be two-faced because of their natural duality.

Mercedes: Don't be ashamed of crying. I'm here to protect you. Will you protect me in return? Sylvain: I will. I promise. You know, Mercedes, you really are a special lady.

Because Mercedes was able to empathize with his pain, he let the mask slip with her, and she saw his other face. Because of that, she was also the only character to see him cry. She wanted him to save her from her arranged marriage, and she had a genuine desire to save him from that fate, too. So, she is one of the very few women Sylvain is able to marry and have a paired ending with.

Mercedes: You're much the same, yes? People like us have to try to bloom as best we can. Sylvain: Never really thought of myself as a flower, but I get what you're saying. Flowers are stuck in the same spot for life, whether they like it or not. And if they happen to sprout in a bad area, they're out of luck. But we have legs, not roots. We can go wherever we want.

But Hopes does a good job of showing why that's not the ideal solution to their problems. Even if she did marry him, she would prefer to be doing charity work rather than living the life of a nobleman's wife. Sylvain was fine with that, but Mercedes did not want to stand in the way of him marrying the person he truly loved.

Sylvain: To be perfectly clear, I'm not making advances on your or anything. But I'm the heir of House Gautier. If I ask you, this other guy will have no choice but to bow out. Though I doubt he'd be happy about it. After that, you can do whatever you want. Go work at a church or ladle out soup or whatever makes you happy. I won't stop you. Mercedes: But that would prevent you from marrying the person you love.

She didn't realize that Sylvain didn't want to get married in the first place. He would be marrying her because she offered him a loophole to his own predicament. With her as his wife, he could fulfill his noble obligation, but still be able to live freely. They cared for each other and shared mutual respect, but neither of them seemed like they would have considered marrying the other without their fathers pushing them into an arranged marriage.

Mercedes: And before that, when I lived with my mother and my little brother. It also reminds me of the time I spent studying with friends at the school of sorcery in the capital. Things may not have been easy then, but I would give anything to return to those days.

The tagline for the game was, "Sweet memories twisted by time's cruel hand". The best option for Mercedes might seem like recruiting her into Crimson Flower and reuniting her with her brother.

Mercedes & Jeritza Once those who slither in the dark were finally defeated, Mercedes left home and opened a small orphanage in the Faerghus region with her mother. After many years of kind service raising children who had lost their families, she received a letter bearing familiar handwriting. Its author, a prisoner in Enbarr, expressed his sincerest well-wishes to Mercedes and her family. Still more time passed until, one day, the man who wrote the letter paid her a visit. With joyful tears in her eyes, Mercedes smiled, took Emile by the hand, and at last welcomed him home.

And their ending is certainly touching. I was never really a big fan of it, though, because Jeritza's condition is resolved without any explanation. In Mercedes' paralogue, the Death Knight said his soul had long departed. He was not fully in control of himself, which is why he continued to fight on the opposite side from his sister. Before this DLC update, it had been implied that Emile had probably been experimented on like the Remire villagers. He was barely human anymore and it was impossible for him to return to normal.

Mercedes: It's sad, but the truth is that people forget. You may be afraid to forget your past, but you'll never be able to revisit it. Living in the present is the best we can do. We owe it to those who can't come back. Dimitri: If someone had said those words to me five years ago, I would be a different man today.

As sad as it is, Mercedes had a stronger character arc in AM where she had to accept that she's unable to return to the past.

Annette: You know, I've always loved you more than anything in the world! Mercedes: My, is that…a confession of love? Hehe, I'm so happy~. Annette: Uh, um, I wanted to say I love the sweets you bake more than anything in the world! Mercedes: Oh, is that so... Well, I love you, Annie.

Other than Emile, Annette was the most important person to Mercedes. In their A-Support they both confessed their love for each other. While it did seem like the bisexual Mercedes may have loved her beyond friendship (particularly in the Japanese), Annette seemed insistent on emphasizing her platonic love.

Annette & Mercedes After the war, Annette and Mercedes lived separate lives: the former as a teacher at the school of sorcery in Fhirdiad, the latter as a cleric at Garreg Mach. Though they lived apart, they exchanged letters so frequently and shared their lives with one another in such detail that it was as though they were side by side. After many decades, they resigned their respective positions and reunited at Garreg Mach. In their final years, they relocated to a modest house in the Fortress City. It is said that they were happy together to the very end.

They will not be life partners even if you go for their paired ending. While they do keep in touch, they'll live completely separate lives until retirement age. It's a slightly bittersweet ending, showing how, as we get older and pursue different life paths, things don't always stay the same. I don't consider it to be the most satisfying ending for either of them. Still, the fact that Mercedes will move away from her best friend shows how important it was to her to pursue her dream.

Mercedes: I just don't want to let go of the life that I've made for myself. I know it's not what my heart wants, but I don't have the strength to say no.

After Garreg Mach fell, Mercedes returned home to the Kingdom capital and joined the merchant business. She told Byleth that she didn't want to give up the life she made for herself in Fhirdiad.

Annette: Since our time in the capital, so much has happened. We've had to make new lives for ourselves, and we've seen at least as many hard times as good. If things keep changing like this, I wonder if we'll be able to stay the same people we are now…

And Annette also didn't want things between them to change by starting completely new lives again, which is what happens in their paired ending.

Dimitri: My own dreams… I have never given it any thought. What about you? What do you want, Mercedes? Mercedes: I want to keep sewing and training with you, even after you've become king. I want to be your friend.

Mercedes even wanted to stay friends with Dimitri after the war, which would only be possible if she kept her old life in the capital.

Mercedes: I'm going to Fhirdiad to meet with my adoptive father, and I'd like you to accompany me. Byleth: What for? Mercedes: I feel the need to set things straight with him in my own way. I've already decided exactly what I'm going to say. I'm choosing to live my life how I want, in pursuit of my own happiness. I need you to accept that. I'm in charge of my own destiny. Not you, not anyone else. Just me. Ah… I've waited so long to say all that.

The best thing for her would be to sever ties with her adoptive father, without the excuse of already having a fiancé. She always left her fate in the hands of the goddess or people above her. But her character arc was about acting of her own free will.

Dimitri: Do you remember the child who cursed me after my father's funeral? Dedue: Ah, yes. I believe he was the son of a knight who fell in Duscur. Dimitri: He was furious that I would not take revenge on your people, and even more enraged to see you serving as my vassal. He berated me without mercy, demanding I kill you then and there. All I could do was walk away. Everyone desires revenge for that day. Survivors and the dead alike cry out for retribution.

Dimitri was also a victim of Faerghus's violent patriarchal culture. He was expected to carry out vengeance for the Tragedy of Duscur. His violent urges were encouraged and rewarded by the society he grew up in. At times, he was chilled to the bone by the depravity of his own actions, such as suppressing a rebellion.

Dedue: When I stood before those soldiers and their swords that day, I was prepared to die. But then you suddenly appeared, and you shielded me. I knew then that a savior's hand could reach into even the deepest darkness.

Dedue was the biggest victim of Farghus's retaliatory violence. His moniker is "Taciturn Devotee". A devotee is a person who strongly admires a particular person. But it can also mean a strong believer in a particular religion or god. It probably would not be an exaggeration to state that Dedue saw Dimitri as the Fódlan goddess.

Dedue: And I would cast it aside in an instant if my death were to your benefit. For that reason, I cannot consider myself your friend. There are still many in the Kingdom who despise the people of Duscur. It would be selfish of me to stand by your side as an equal.

Many people interpreted his feelings for Dimitri as having a romantic aspect to them. I certainly wouldn't reject that interpretation. After all, by reaching out his hand, Dimitri served the same role that Byleth did for him.

Dedue: You promised me you would build a Kingdom that is proud to boast of Duscur blood. In this Kingdom, where there is no distinction between the people of Duscur and the people of Fódlan… Will I finally, without reservation, be able to call you my friend? Will I…Dimitri? Dimitri: Dedue… Yes, you will call me your friend, again and again. No matter how many hardships I must endure�� Dedue: I will do all I can to bring about that world as well. To be your friend…is what I have always wanted.

During their A-Support, we learned that Dimitri made a promise to Dedue before they attended the Officer's Academy.

Dimitri & Dedue After his coronation, Dimitri assumed the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and his loyal vassal, Dedue, remained ever at his side. Among Dimitri's achievements was the reconciliation with Duscur: an extraordinary effort that required extensive negotiations to get past a history of betrayal and oppression. It was a trying task, but Dimitri never once considered giving up. While they behaved as lord and vassal in public, it is said that Dimitri and Dedue were more like family in private. When Dimitri finally fell to illness, Dedue tended to his liege's deathbed, and then took up a post at his grave for the rest of his days. When the time came, they were buried beside each other.

Their paired ending emphasizes Dimitri's efforts reconciling with Duscur and how he never gave up. But it does not specify whether the Duscur people were able to proudly live alongside people from Fódlan without distinction. In fact, because Dedue had to behave as a vassal in public, it implies that there was still hostility between Duscur and the Kingdom for the majority of Dimitri's reign. Dedue only gets to stand by Dimitri's side as an equal in death.

Also, there was no mention of Dedue's efforts bringing about the world he wanted to see. It only mentions him serving Dimitri for his entire life as a subordinate, then guarding his grave for the rest of his days. It is not that different from his solo ending, and I don't think it's a particularly satisfying ending for Dedue.

Dedue: I would regretfully decline. I cannot know happiness without you by my side. I would still seek vengeance. Just… for my own sake, not yours. Dimitri: Interesting. And nothing I say to the contrary will change your mind? Dedue: Your Majesty, can you not live for your own sake? Dimitri: My life is not my own. It belongs to my kingdom, my people, and the dead.

Neither Dimitri or Dedue knew how to live for themselves, and neither could live without the other.

Dedue: I…can still fight, Your Highness. Dimitri: Shut up and retreat. You must live, Dedue.

During his boar phase, Dimitri was willing to mow down any of his old classmates, even if they were not his enemies. And he was willing to send all of his friends and allies to their deaths, too. The single exception was Dedue. He is the only person Dimitri tells to retreat at Gronder Field. And Dedue will live only to seek vengeance.

Dedue: Ngh… I'm not finished yet! Dimitri: Fall back, Dedue! Please! I cannot afford to lose you!

In Scarlet Blaze, Dimitri also begs him to retreat in the Valley of Torment. Dedue would have gladly fought to the death, but Dimitri personally made sure he didn't. It was because he cherished Dedue so much that he wanted him to live for his own happiness.

Dedue: Someday, I hope to show you a whole landscape of these flowers in full bloom. Byleth: You mean Duscur? Dedue: Yes. Once this conflict is over, and His Highness ascends the throne, I believe it can be done. You must live at least until then. Understood? Byleth: Same to you. Dedue: That's true enough. I had not thought much of my own life, until now. Except that I would gladly cast it aside for His Highness. That is still true, but now I desire to see the end of this war. Until I can show you the fields of Duscur in bloom… I will go on living.

Other than Dimitri, the only other thing that gave Dedue a reason to live was showing Byleth the flowers of Duscur in bloom.

Dedue: When I left the capital, I told His Majesty that I would be leaving his service. Byleth: What?! Dedue: He accepted my decision with a smile.

If you go for Dedue's paired ending with Byleth, you learn that if Dedue were to leave Dimitri's service, he would accept with a smile. And I think Dedue has a better character arc if he is able to grow past his codependence on Dimitri and find his own reason to live.

Dedue: To Duscur? There is nothing of interest left there. Mercedes: Isn't it where you were born? And isn't it where your wonderful food and stories come from? I think those are reason enough to visit at least once! Dedue: Mercedes… If you will allow it, I would like to accompany you. His Highness would surely grant me leave to go.

When Mercedes asked Dedue what his plans were after the war, he said it was to serve Dimitri for the rest of his days. And in most of his endings, that's exactly what he does, even if he's married. Going with her to Duscur and praying to the gods (and goddesses) of his own culture changed his entire fate. That's probably why his ending with Mercedes is so different compared to all of his others.

Mercedes: I think a place is only truly destroyed when there's no one left to remember it. You should tell more people about Duscur to keep it alive.

The whole relationship between Mercedes and Dedue revolved around the idea that they could keep their loved ones alive through their memories. He taught her many things about his culture, and she taught him a family recipe that would have otherwise been forgotten.

Dedue: I understand how you feel. I had a younger sister. Sylvain: Had? Oh. Tell me about her. What was she like? Dedue: Hm. She loved flowers, and often made crowns out of them. And once she set her mind to something, nothing in the world could change it.

I really loved their Support in Hopes. It felt exactly like a post-Houses version of their relationship after they had travelled to Duscur and fallen in love. There are rarely any times where Dedue seems happier than when teaching her and the kids to make flower crowns, in memory of his sister. They seem like a married teacher couple, too.

Dedue & Mercedes Two years after the war, Dedue and his wife, Mercedes, opened a school in the Duscur residential district in Fhirdiad. The school educated Duscur children, who had never been given structured learning before, in reading, writing, arithmetic, and even Duscur history. Many years later, when the Duscur people reclaimed their homeland, the people who attended this school were able to resettle there and revive their old culture. Because of this, Dedue and Mercedes were forever renowned by the Duscur.

This is the only ending where Dimitri's promise to Dedue is actually fulfilled, as it mentions the Duscur people having their own district in Fhirdiad. And it just so happens that this is the only paired ending (besides the one with Byleth) where Dedue isn't described as a vassal. He is still living in the capital, so we can assume that he and Dimitri are close friends. But they live as equals. Dedue has his own life now and his own achievements are renowned.

In Hopes, Mercedes said she wanted to go back to Fhirdiad, but not live with her adoptive father. This is the only ending (other than with Dimitri) where she can live her dream, help those in need, and stay in Fhirdiad with her other friends. With Dedue, they get married two years after the war. So, she clearly didn't marry him just to escape her arranged marriage. Dedue and Mercedes bonded over their sense of loss, but they used that pain to keep Duscur alive, so I think it's the absolute best conclusion to their character arcs.

#fe3h #fe3h meta #dedue molinaro #mercedes von martritz #mercedue

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weaselle · 2 years ago

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Aliens

i did it. i finally did it. i invented an alien that’s NOTHING like earth life.

Do you know how HARD that is!? Do you know moray eels have an inner jaw like the xenomorphs from the Aliens movies? Did you know several types of fish live in groups with a single large female and when she dies the next largest male undergoes a sex change and becomes the new lady in charge? And some fungi have hundreds, or even thousands of genders? Did you know the jeweled wasp stings a cockroach sooooo precisely in the brain that it controls what it’s behavior will be (which is to stop eating or drinking and instead guard the larva that are slowly eating it alive). Did you know there’s a plant that changes its leaves to be shaped like the leaves of plants it’s growing near, and it will even copy a plastic plant, and it does it without touching it, and we basically have no idea how the fuck it knows what shape the leaves are.. did you know that shit?

Do you understand how hard it is to imagine a form of life that isn’t composed of earth features? Like yeah, i can do the floaty tentacle thing but it’s basically an air octopus, or i could do like, “what if people were also alligators” or i can be like, great big eyes, scary ass mouth, six limbs and oh, wings too why not, and some striking colors and ah fuck i’ve just done a fat furry dragonfly haven’t i.

i mean yes its my own fault for insisting i design my aliens evolutionarily from the environment up. Like, does my alien navigate the incomprehensible storms and gravitational forces of a gas giant? Because having a human and one of those aliens in the same place at the same time is probably going to kill one of them. Putting them on earth would likely be like hauling a deep sea fish up to the surface where their cells all sort of turn inside out from the change in water pressure.

but if you evolve your aliens in an environment that any earth creatures can live in, they’re gonna like. They’re gonna have features that some earth creature has. Did you know that octopuses can edit their own genetic code during their lifetime? They can change who they are on a genetic level.

Anyway, it’s super hard to get an alien that can share human environments but is so acutely alien in all ways that a human wouldn’t even comprehend what they were looking at. Right?

Not something you look at and go like, oh yeah, that’s just like if a crab lived in the trees and created strong electro magnetic fields to feel their way around (did you know bees do that? bees create like, an electro-static aura, and flowers also create them, and when a bee lands on a flower it temporarily flips it to reverse between negative and positive, so when a bee flies near a flower it feels a little magnetic pull toward a flower full of pollen, but feels a little push away from a flower that has recently been landed on by a bee and is mostly empty of pollen. Did you know that?)

i just, i want an alien that is SO alien, that you don’t understand what you are looking at when you see it. Like you don’t see common features, you don’t see a mouth, no eyes, it doesn’t appear to be breathing. It doesn’t have recognizable limbs but isn’t some kind of slug thing... is there a head? are none of those things heads? Are all of them?

and i can come up with THAT stuff all day long. But i can’t help myself, i always wind up being like, ok, but WHAT ARE they though, what are all those things that may or may not be heads, what are they being used for? I as the author feel i have to know, and that means i have to decide: what environmental pressures dictated evolution into that form?

anyway my standards are high for alien creation, but i think the results are going to be worth it.

i have a bunch of aliens i’ve come up with that are super cool aliens, and they meet many of my standards for perfect alien design

So far i have TWO. two alien species that meet every standard and still work. And are, I guarantee, NOTHING like any earth life form. They do, unfortunately, form a ven diagram of design between them, but nothing about them is of this earth.

i can’t tell you yet, gotta figure out how to present them in story form

#rambling #aliens

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yayroos · 1 year ago

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Fediverse for tumblr users

Ok so I said the other night I'd do a write up of how to fediverse for tumblr. Because tumblr is, as ever, in danger of screwing us all over to a similar degree to what twitter and reddit have been through recently.

First, some definitions

Fediverse (fedi) - a whole bunch of different websites running compatible platforms that can talk to eachother

mastodon - one of the larger kinds of platforms that make up the fediverse, there are others, but mastodon is the common twitter/tumblr ish one in terms of functionality

lemmy and kbin - two other kinds of fediverse platform, which you might have heard of recently as a number of reddit communities have moved there. Lemmy and kbin can talk to mastodon and you can see posts between them, it's just a different layout.

federation - the link between two different sites running fediverse platofrms, that lets users see content from all different sites

de-federation - breaking the link, basically blocking a whole website, so if someone sets up a nasty website for spreading spam or something, your admins can block it completely

Great, so what's this mastodon thing anyway?

You might have heard about mastodon while twitter was doing its major implosion under elon. From your perspective, it's a collection of microblogging sites that can all talk to each other, so if you set up an account on one of them, you can follow and be followed from other ones, without being beholden to their moderators. If you don't like the admins on your particular site, you can switch to another site running a similar platform and take your followers and following lists with you. The important bit is that it pretty much Just Works. Log in, make posts, like, boost, reply, follow people you like, look through tags, see what's out there.

If you want to make an account, I recommend taking a look at https://fedi.garden/ as a place to find sites that are likely to have people with shared interests. Personally I'm on tech.lgbt, a community of queer people interested in computing, and it's a really nice place. Signups are currently manually moderated, so you can be fairly sure there aren't spammers or bots there.

There are lots of large fediverse sites out there, which you can also join, and lots of country or language specific ones. Pick one, or let me know a couple of things you'd be looking for in that community and I'll do some searching and find one you might like.

If you're super techy you can even host one yourself, but that's well beyond the scope of this post and if you're into that then I'm sure you can figure out how.

If you're interested in looking for replacements for other socials, the fediverse has most of them covered

twitter and tumblr -> mastodon

reddit -> lemmy or kbin

instagram -> pixelfed

youtube -> peertube

twitch -> owncast

they all work a little differently, but they all talk to each other, so I can see pixelfed or peertube posts from my account on tech.lgbt, and people on those sites can see my posts.

it's also worth noting that mastodon isn't the only kind of fediverse site that behaves like twitter or tumblr, you might see things like calckey, GoToSocial, akkoma and others. They're all broadly the same for you as a user, and your admins will tell you if you need to do anything if they change from one to another. tech.lgbt just changed from mastodon to GoToSocial and it was seamless for me, same account, same app.

Speaking of apps, there's heaps of different apps you can use to view your feed and use your account, including the web interfaces, which are fairly polished on their own. iOS and android have different apps available, and many of them are open source. Several makers of now defunct reddit third party apps are working on lemmy or kbin apps, so if you were a fan of Apollo then there may be a lemmy app for you soon.

I use Ice Cubes for iOS, but I'm looking into switching because I'm not totally happy with some of the stances of the creator on things like AI integration, and there are other apps out there I can just switch to. If you don't know where to start, there's nothing wrong with the default mastodon app, and a lot of people use it.

#tumblr #mastodon #fediverse #reddit #lemmy

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cdroloisms · 4 years ago

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do you have any,,,post prison mute dream stuff??? or like, severely quiet, silent and obedient dream shtuff?? and the consequences thereof??? bc im reading your drabbles and i am in literal awe

aww, thank you so much !! yeah selectively mute dream post prison is absolutely a hc i love and write smtimes - it’s already been suggested in canon, and it’s super fun to play w/ in post-canon works. here’s some fluffy syndicate!dream bc gosh knows we need it after the angst that we’ve been getting

tw: implied torture, panic attacks, trauma - all v short mentions. this one’s definitely on the lighter side! :D

“I didn’t know you knew sign.”

Dream startles, arms flying to cover his face, and the crow he had been signing at squawks angrily when it turns towards Phil. He ignores its chatter, smoothing his own flinch behind a smile, lowering his wings, bringing his hands, palms up, in front of him at his waist - this song and dance has become all too familiar in the weeks that Dream’s resided with the Syndicate, and Phil is nothing if not patient.

Slowly, the boy uncurls from where he’d huddled into himself, arms clasped firmly around his ribs like someone will try and take them from him if he doesn’t hold on tight enough (and maybe, Phil thinks, imagining the messy lattice of scars underneath Dream’s loose-fitting hoodie that he has only seen a few times since they brought him over, someone has - but those are thoughts that are better left untouched for as long as he can manage it.) Dream’s eyes raise, flick over his face, his breathing quieting down from the discordant rattle it had been, and tentatively, ever slowly, he raises his good hand in a loose fist, letting it bob up and down. Yes.

Phil settles into the armchair across from him, raising his own hands. His fingers feel clumsy, but the memories come back with more ease than he would’ve expected - I know a little. Dream’s eyes don’t quite brighten, but his shoulders fall down from where they’d been hunched up to his ears, the hand he keeps tucked to his chest trembling slightly less, and it’s as much as a win as he’s ever going to get.

The silence stretches, familiar in its awkwardness, and Phil stifles a grimace as he forces long-forgotten memories to the surface. Dream’s hands, from what little he had seen from the doorway, had practically flown as he spoke to the crow still sitting by his right side - obviously practiced even with the still-healing injuries tracing over both arms. How did you learn?

We- He hesitates, left hand trembling violently, before pushing on, we all learned with- he signs a C, then lifts his hands to his head in a sign that Phil vaguely remembers as being the one for deer. Dream must see the questions written in his expression, because his cheeks flush as he backtracks. C-A-L-L-A-H-A-N, he finger spells, and Phil nods. That makes sense.

Some of the crows in the house must have noticed Phil’s arrival, because they storm into the room from the doorway, awkwardly hopping across the door with their wings waving by their sides as they eagerly voice their displeasure at the lack of attention. He’s not in the mood to pick out the words between their angry caws, so he simply watches as they scatter all over the room. Something almost like a smile tugs at Dream’s face as he watches them enter - the kid has grown inexplicably fond of both his flock and all of the assorted animals that Techno drags back into the house whenever he goes out, and Phil has long since resigned himself to being outnumbered one hundred to one by a literal army of mobs wherever he goes. Some of the crows had been pretty wary of Dream at the beginning, but after a few weeks more or less the entire flock has become viciously protective of the kid, sufficiently won over by gifts of head scratches and berries and various shiny things. Sure enough, the birds form a dark, squawking circle at Dream’s feet, a few flying up to tug impatiently at his clothes, and despite the (very obvious) favoritism, Phil smiles; the flock is good for Dream, as annoying as they can be.

DADZA, one calls, its lone cry soon echoed by the entire group of fluttering feathers gathered on the floor, DADZA AND DREAM DADZA DADZA. Phil laughs, a familiar warmth and exasperation filling his lungs, and he turns his attention back to Dream.

You up to some more? He tries; it’s a chance, for sure, and he brushes away the creeping anxiety crawling up his neck; he doesn’t want to make Dream panic, hopes that he’s doing the right thing. I could always use the practice.

Quiet, once again, only broken by the murmurs of his birds eagerly awaiting Dream’s answer as the boy rocks side to side in deliberation, and Phil is halfway through working out a frantic you don’t have to if you don’t want to when Dream raises his own hands.

Sure, he signs, a forced smile on his face but eyes still clear and bright, why not?

Somehow, they end up in a bastardized version of twenty questions, surrounded by birds that do not hesitate at any chance to voice their own opinions. They work through favorite colors (green), favorite flowers (roses for Dream, peonies for Phil), favorite mob (Phil answers this with a pointed definitely-not-crows, staring at the flock who have been shouting over themselves naming different colors for about five minutes, which immediately makes them devolve into screaming caws and divebombs at the edges of Phil’s cape that leave him thoroughly occupied for the next ten minutes), and at some point Phil falls further into the cushions of his chair and Dream’s legs lay against the sofa instead of being drawn up to his chest and it’s almost normal.

By the time Techno finds them, they’ve forgone structure all together, Dream watching intently as Phil signs out an embellished tale of one of the Antarctic Empire’s exploits with a crow held gently in his hands. Techno’s voice behind him startles him bad enough to send his wings snapping outwards, feathers standing on end, but Dream doesn’t react much beyond a twitch of his lips - he must’ve seen the piglin hybrid and tag-teamed to prank him, Phil realizes with a half-hearted grumble. Techno’s eyes sparkle mischievously, definitely planned, then.

“Hi Phil, Dream,” Techno shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over the back of Phil’s chair, “Looks like you’ve been busy. Can’t say I’m not feelin’ a bit left out, though; Phil, you never told me you knew sign language.”

“You never asked, mate,” he quips, even as Dream signs animatedly from the corner of his eye. T-E-C-H-N-O-L-O-S-T.

Techno narrows his eyes. “I get the feelin’ that you’re messin’ with me, nerd.” Dream blinks faux innocently, smiling wider, and Phil picks up on the bit. Oh, this is fun.

He can’t understand us, he assures Dream, feeling a wicked smirk of his own growing on his face. So what do you think for dinner?

“Phil- the betrayal!” Techno splutters, voice going high and pitchy, and that reaction alone would’ve made the prank more than worth it - but Dream’s shoulders shake, eyes glittering as his fingers fly almost too fast for Phil to catch, and oh, that’s laughter, tiny, breathless giggles falling from his lips, and Techno must catch it even as he begins to berate the voices in his head, “This is not a bruh moment, Chat, don’t you start-”

Stew? Dream signs, still snickering, and he looks happy, more than Phil has ever seen him, the sight of him smiling and bright-eyed with amusement almost enough to cover for the gaunt quality of his face, the pale scars left all over his skin.

Of course, mate, Phil signs back, throwing in a do you think T-E-C-H-N-O ended up lost in those same woods again for good measure, rewarded when it sends Dream into another round of giggles. Techno grumbles without any real heat behind it, plopping himself down in the remaining chair.

“Ok, nah, no more of this exclusive club; you guys are teachin’ me this tonight before Chat loses it - yes that was an insult, don’t you start it with the E’s,” and Phil laughs, hard, the flock cawing and beginning to spam E on their own, for some reason, and Dream signing through the alphabet with the biggest grin on his face, and-

“Oh, Prime, this is going to so scuffed,” Phil says, breathless, his warning unheeded as Techno finishes his rant at Chat to focus on Dream.

And it is scuffed - it is so fucking scuffed, between Phil’s lackluster memory and Techno’s frequent interrupting to quiet down an extremely rowdy Chat and the incessant calls of the flock further egging them on, but it’s warm and Dream doesn’t stop smiling and Techno looks more relaxed than he has in weeks and the helpless, singing urge of protect protect protect that has lived in Phil’s head ever since Techno had carried Dream, beaten and bloodied and broken, through their front door finally, finally, begins to quiet down.

He tunes back into the impromptu lesson - they’ve finished the alphabet, seemingly having moved onto common words and objects, and Dream- hesitates, raises his hand, all five fingers drawn together, to the corner of his mouth and then pulls it back. Home, he signs, moving to fingerspelling, H-O-M-E. Home.

For a moment, they’re all quiet, Dream’s hand still raised by his face, even the crows falling silent as they all stare at each other. Phil watches, breath caught in his throat, as the planes of Techno’s face soften, the teasing edge of his voice, for once, leaving. “Yeah, nerd. You’re home.”

Home, Dream signs again, then again, looking up, eyes bright, hopeful. Phil thinks, proudly, that it looks like a new beginning. I’m home.

#tw torture #tw trauma #tw panic attack #syndicate!dream #my beloved #queue <3 #q stream aftermath #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Sealing the Deal part 2

Summary: Dick has a perfectly reasonable idea.

a/n: There will probably be more parts to this since you people gave me so many ideas but for now here is some soft smut. Did I finish this just in time for the end of mermay? Yes.

warning: Attempt at soft smut

Main Masterlist

Part 1

"Let's get married."

It takes around a minute for you to even register the fact that Dick had even said anything at all and another to parse out the meaning behind his words. You look up from the piece you've been slaving over for hours while Dick dozed on your lap.

"Let's get married." He repeats earnestly.

You narrow your eyes at him. You... clearly missed at least 2 diatribes and 40% of this conversation. "Uh Dickie, my love, did I miss the part where you divorced me or did I sleep through it like I did when Wally was preaching about raw fish?" You set your tools down and pull his pelt more tightly around you, feeling oddly protective of it.

Seeing you wrapped up in his pelt never failed to make Dick's chest flutter; unfortunately, he had to focus on the matter at hand. "As I was saying, we're married but not in the human way. "

"Ah- Yeah, I see that but.. that seems entirely unnecessary."

"There's no harm in it." Dick says, looking at you with big hopeful eyes. No matter whether it’s his liquid seal eyes or his bright baby blues, you’re still a sucker.

He is definitely up to something. Dick always uses that look when he really wants something and you can already feel yourself falling for it. Who thought giving this man the cutest face in the world was a good idea? Who?! You sigh. Spousal homicide is a bad idea, you tell yourself.

"You're so lucky you're terribly cute," you huff, "you're also lucky that there's a ferry coming tomorrow."

You mentally calculate how much time the whole trip would take but you know all that arithmetic is useless when you hazard a look at your husband. Dick beams, dimples appear at the corners of his mouth, and makes the happiest little noises.

You lean over the railing, watching the sea and feeling the wind comb through your hair. A pair of arms wraps around you making you squeak.

Dick buries his face in your hair and he sweeps you into his arms. "How's the most beautiful creature in the world?"

"Dunno Dick, how are you?" You smile.

Dick sniffles. "You're not allowed to be this cute."

"Hypocrite." You laugh wrapping your arms around him.

He nudges his face against yours.

"Are you liking your first boat ride?"

"I could still swim faster." Dick hums.

You roll your eyes. "Sadly for us, I can't."

"It's ok," he says, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear," it just means you can't escape me on this boat."

"Pfffft!"

"You're saying that now but look who I have in my hold." He chuckles, lips brushing against your neck.

"We're in public you dork!" You squeal.

"And?"

You sigh."You just like embarrassing me."

"Yup. Just ask Jaso- What's that?!" Dick says pointing to a statue on the shore. It was tall and proud with hair cascading down like a waterfall with a visage as hard as the rock it's carved on. You narrow your eyes trying to recall what the local told your father when you were younger.

"Oh, it's... It's a sea goddess I believe or maybe a selkie." You shrug at Dick who looks at it in awe. You supposed this is the first time he's seen a statue that big.

"I thought you said the people on the mainland didn't believe in selkies?"

"Er... ok, so there are mainlanders who are more inland where I come from and there's people near the sea. No, there are more divisions than that but- Ok, so the place where I came from the sea wasn't as important but here it is so they probably have more folk tales."

"I guess that makes sense," Dick says burying his face in your hair. "Did you have any folk tales?"

"Some but it was mostly cautionary about maidens being stolen away."

"Guess you didn't listen to them, huh?" he says, "did they say anything about stealing hearts?" Dick winks one of those winks that only he could make cute.

You huff into your scarf. "More about eating them, I think."

"I can do that if you want." He smirks cheekily.

You pat his cheek, trying to be as irritatingly condescending as possible. "You're still not scary."

Dick takes your hand in his and brings it closer to his lips. He pretends to bite at your fingers, his sharp canines dragging along the skin and nipping at the joints. "It’s because I love you so much."

Dick alternates between gawking at perfectly common sights like large cargo ships and flocks of sheep on the cliff and teasing the life out of you for the rest of the ferry ride.

You are the tiniest bit mortified that several passengers have seen your husband drag his teeth over your skin and toss you in the air for the fun of it. Dick was horrible at keeping a low profile. Not that acting reserved would have mattered anyway given how everyone's eyes were always drawn to him.

You can't blame them, his laughter is infectious and his smile was enough to make the gloomy morning look like a bright summer afternoon. You really really don't blame them for gawking but you just wish they wouldn't.

Not even fifteen minutes onshore and you're reminded why you only ever went into town with your father. Being meek by nature, you're often the target for unruly sailors. It never got too bad, not enough for you to call the cops at least. You would be lying if you wish it wasn't such a common occurrence to have some random guy shove his hand down your back pocket and squeezes your ass.

You jump, nearly dropping the little map of shops your father had drawn for you a while ago. A man passes behind you snickering quietly and yeah, knocking his teeth in would be amazing.

"Hey buddy, do you mind apologizing?" Dick asks, his voice dangerously pleasant.

There's a gnawing sense of foreboding forming in your stomach. It squirms in your gut until you grab Dick's sleeve. "Dick," you hiss, "it's not worth it."

You'd looked at the man and sadly, it really wasn't worth getting Dick's face punched in on his first visit to the mainland. You don't think anything worth getting Dick hurt.

The men turn back to your and the dread in your stomach solidifies. Even your dad was never dumb enough to piss off sailors especially ones built like I train would be dented when hitting them.

"I don't see the problem, pretty boy," the man spits like he'd said the word fungus, "The lass doesn't have a problem with it, do you?" He leers at you. It makes your skin crawl. He steps closer, invading your space, and places a hand on your shoulder. "This lassy here and I go waaaay back." He says, sliding his hand down your arm. You have absolutely no doubt that this man is sloshed because you have never seen him before in your life. You are pretty plain, so that makes sense but yeah, this is the first time you've seen his mug.

"A lass like you shouldn't be dressing like that if you know what's good for you."You open your mouth to protest but only manage to tighten your grip on Dick's sleeve.

There's a split second between Dick flickering his eyes to you and the satisfying sound of a fist making contact with a jaw. The man falls to the ground narrowly avoiding smashing his head into the cobblestones.

"Get up and apologize to her." Dick growls, teeth bared. He pushes forward. You're about as stunned as the man on the ground. Dick's poised for a fight and you have no doubt he'll have no problem getting into a row. You need to stop Dick from doing anything stupid. You wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing your eyes shut. You bury your face into his coat. You want to tell him that it's fine, that you're used to things like this, that you don't want him to get hurt. This whole thing isn't worth him getting hurt. You're not worth him getting hurt. But the only thing you can manage is a weak "It's not worth it."

Dick squeezes your hand. You're trembling and Dick feels awful for scaring you but he doesn't stop glaring at the man. He guesses he's made his point loud and clear. He softens a fraction, maneuvering you to his side and wrapping an arm around you. There's still a snarl caught in the back of his throat but contrary to popular belief, Dick isn't hot-headed enough to ignore you. All he wants to do now is get you to safety.

You squeeze him with your arms, your face still scrunched as if bracing for impact. "Let's go shopping for those rings, yeah?"

Dick sighs with an indulgent smile. "Ok, honey." He kisses the crown of your head. "I love you, I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," you say, snuggling tighter into him. "You know I only want you and--” That wasn’t even the point. You are really bad at this. “--and you really should be more careful. What if you got hurt?"

"Did you miss that killer right hook? He sure didn't."

A small smile shapes your lips. "Moron."

"Still love me though." He says, bringing your knuckle to his lips.

You shake your head. "It's unfortunate really."

"You know the more time I spend here the less I believe the fact that you didn't know what selkies were," Dick says holding up another seal necklace.

You look at him, wince at the bruise blooming on his knuckle but continue. "My dad and I went into town twice a year and they were only ever day trips." You say, setting down a cheap shot glass with a blubbering seal. It wasn't strictly a lie. It was more of a guesstimate. You look away from him and mumble a "I thought they were called Setties."

Dick snorts loudly and you have a heart attack thinking he reverted back to his seal form. "Setties?" He snorts again and you think he's gonna suck in all the dust from the store.

"Yes, Setties." You repeat grumpily, "I was 7. Cut me some slack!"

"When have I ever cut you some slack?"

"Never."

"Mhm, exactly."

"Why do I love you again?"

"Because I'm the cutest person, you know?"

"I dunno, Dickie." You drawl, picking up a couple of little seal stuffed toys. They were cute with their round faces and distended bodies. Their black eyes didn't quite do justice to your favorite trouble maker but they're close enough in huggableness."These little guys could give you a run for your money."

Dick makes an affronted squawk. You hold them to Dick's face for inspection and ask: "Should we buy the black one or the white one?" Truly, a matter of life and death.

Dick scrunches his face in thought. "The black one obviously."

"But the white one looks cute too." You whine.

Dick gives you a grumpy pout. You ignore him. "Why don’t we get both?"

Dick crosses his arms. "Why-"

"Yanno... A pair like us..." You say, pulling them closer to your chest and looking up at him hopefully.

Dick looks at you wearily. "How could I argue against such a solid argument?" Dick says, tousling your already windswept locks.

"What do you think I’d look like as a seal?" You ask absently as you exit the store. You'd managed to drive the price down with a little haggling and a bit of distraction from Dick.

"Beautiful."

You grin at him. "Again buttering me up won't make me buy you more sweets."

"I can think of other things to eat." Dick says, his pink tongue darting over his lips as he looks at you.

You swallow, mouth feeling dry. Dick is horrible to you today.

The old antique shop was dustier than you remembered. Part of you suspects that the particles sprinkled on all the shelves is in fact just the old owner's cremated remains but you don't really wanna find out if it's true.

You comb through the shelves, feeling like a pirate in search of treasure. The expensive rings with their big rind stones were stowed away on a shelf behind the shopkeeper but everyone one knows that if you want the good stuff you have to search for it yourself.

Dick seems to be happy looking through all the strange knickknacks, so you carry on.

You nearly squeal with glee when you find a ring. It was a band of silver carved into the shape of a seal curling in on itself as it slumbers. You smile holding it close to your chest. "Give me your finger."

"That... is a very strange way to put it."

"Just give me your hand." You say holding out your own. Dick, still incredulous, puts his hand in yours. You bite back a smile as you put the ring on his ring finger. Your lips stretch even as you dig your teeth in. It was a good fit. You're embarrassed to say you were bouncing on your heel with excitement.The silver looks lovely against his tanned skin.

Dick inspects it. "And you said subtlety wasn't my element."

"It really isn't," you say, smiling down at his hand. "But I never did say it was mine either." You could easily find another ring if he doesn't like it but you're quietly hoping he does. You try not to watch his face, not read too deeply into his expressions.

"I like it. Let's try to find a matching one."

Much to your amusement, you did find something but it's.... You snort as you put it on.

"It kind of matches." Dick says wearily.

"It's a fish." You laugh.

"Um... it's a pretty silver fish."

"Absolutely ravishing, huh?"

"Exactly like my wife." Dick says, nipping at your ear.

Your ear burns and you cover it hastily.

"Let's just go pay for them." You say, shoving at him lightly.

"So you do like it?" He asks, peaking through your fingers.

"Yes, you dork. Now, stop being cute." You say, shoving him again.

"Never." He chuckles.

"Is this the statue from the harbor?" Dick asks, poking at the little replica on the shopkeep's counter.

"Aye lad, the natives worshiped the sea before we came along. Kooky fellows but they knew a thing or two about the sea. They even talked about the selkie. Those blood-thirsty women folk of the sea. "

Dick scrunches his nose. You press the heel of your palm to your lips holding back a laugh.

"Well, I’ve heard some different of stories." Dick says, leaning into the counter, his eyes shining mischievously.

The old shopkeep leans in, looking around. "Like what?"

Dick leans in a bit more, his voice hushed and conspiratorial. "I hear they try to trap fair maidens into marriage to bear children for them."

Dick winks unabashedly. You flush. "What?!"

"C'mon lad," the shopkeeper snorted like a walrus, "we all know that all selkies are women folk."

"That’s the thing," Dick says, resting his hands on his intertwined fingers. He grins. "I’ve been out at sea a while, my whole family has aaaaand," he drawls in his other voice. The shopkeep looks entranced. "We've heard of different tales."

"Do tell."

"My family have heard tales of male selkies, those who seek women to carry on the selkie way." Dick pushes off the counter, spinning around on his heel theatrically. "We heard of old lore when they used to kidnap unsuspecting women by the sea shore." You vaguely recall this version but it seemed like ages ago. "But now," he says, stepping closer to you. "Now, they are much more persuasive." Dick winks at you and you resist the urge to elbow him.

"I also heard they're quite persistent." You say, leaning against him.

"Quite." Dick says a little too fondly.

"Hnnn, never heard that one." The shopkeep says tilting his head. "Do you have anymore?"

"Oh, I have a ton of seafaring stories if you'd like. I’ve heard stories about the Cthulhu."

"Cthulhu?"

"The great horror of the deep."

"The only horror here is the lack of treasure chests." The shopkeep huffs. You would be inclined to agree if Tim and Damian weren't so good at finding them.

"Oh this is no tall-tale my friend," Dick says, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders, "we heard that he awakes once every 10 years to roam the deep seas. Why do you think boats go missing with no trace?"

Monsoons, you think.

"Like that submarine last summer!"

Dick nods sagely "Exactly."

You want to slap your palm against your forehead. There is no way he can believe that hokey, right? ... You are literally married to a selkie. Do you really have any room for skepticism? You sigh. You suppose not.

"The sea is a mysterious maiden just like those sires. A tricky bunch, slippery and smart not like mermaids."

"Have you ever heard one?!" The shopkeep nearly folds over the counter.

"Once when I’d been at sea for 4 months, I heard the most beautiful song in my life, kind of like a mirage but it was a misty night at sea."

The shopkeeper gasps.

You blink. This is news to you.

"Luckily, my father pulled me from the towboat before I set off towards it." You try to imagine it and somehow it's funnier than the idea of Dick being bloodthirsty.

Dick regails Bruce's spat with a sea witch and Alfred's horrifying tale with a kraken. Even you were enthralled by all his tales. Having the shopkeep thoroughly wrapped around his finger. He leans in close again. "Sorry, I got so lost. How much were these rings again?"

The man blinks as if resurfacing from a trance. "A sea-loving man like you? You can keep it for five coffers."

You gape at him, eyes blown wide. That’s less than what you pay for bread.

The man turns to you. "Lass, you better keep an eye on him. This one belongs to the sea."

He's... not wrong.

"You really are too kind," Dick says handing the money over.

"Anytime lad. Feel free to come back with more of your stories!" He calls out as you two walk out the door.

“Since when were you a sailor?” You ask, nudging your shoulder against his.

“Since Jay told me stories.” He answers, nudging back.

“So they were all made up?” You ask, shaking his arm.

Dick hums noncommittally.

You frown at him. “C’mon fess up, pup.”

“Not *all* of them. I just spiced up the truth, that’s all.”

“The sirens?”

Dick freezes.

“Wait, are sirens real?” You gape, pounding your hand on his chest.

“Well, kinda.”

“Kinda?!”

Dick walks ahead of you trying to avoid your question. He does the mature thing and plugs his ears with his fingers. You continue to pester him all the way down the street.

The scent from the bakery wafted in the air calling to both of you as you two continue to bicker. Your stomachs cry out in a chorus. You look at your watch. You knew you'd forgotten something.

"I'll get us something to eat," Dick says, clearly staring at the cupcakes. Getting cupcakes wouldn't hurt. It would be better than getting an actual wedding cake.

You shake your head. "I might sit for a bit." You say handing him your purse and wrenching the bags from his grip. He huffs but doesn't complain.

You park yourself on a bench just outside the bakery. Going to town is just as exhausting as you remember it being. You lull your head back, looking to the sky. What are the odds that it's safe to just doze off here on the bench? Probably pretty low.

Dick watches you from a window, snickering. You were so cute when you're nodding off. He should probably ask if they sell coffee too because you look like you're going to need the entire pot.

He lets a woman go in front of him because Alfred taught him manners and not because he was delighted to see you nearly fold into your shopping bags. You startle and yelp then straighten up. Great seas, you're so cute.

"Hey handsome, can I get a name?"

Dick turns to the woman with an amicable smile. "Oh, the name's Dick."

"I'm ..." Dick is barely paying attention when he sees you take out one of the rings you'd bought with a stupidly happy smile on your face as you try it on. You look up at your hand and Dick can't help the twitch of his mouth.

You wave to him, feeling his eyes on you. He waves back with a thousand-watt smile.

There's a hand sprawled on his chest. "I've never seen you here before." The woman purrs. Dick steps back, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm from out of town-"

"That explains it." She says, batting her eyes.

Dick's not too concerned, not when you've just disappeared from his sight. Dick's about to run outside when he feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist.

"My husband and I are just here for a day trip to run some errands." You huff glaring at the woman.

Dick wraps an arm around you, chuckling at the priceless expression on your face.

"Dickie, did you want to introduce me?" You ask sweetly.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name." Dick says, feeling genuinely bad because he really wasn't paying attention. In his defense, you were distracting him.

"I'm Mia."

"I'm (Y/n)." You say trying not to puff your cheeks. You clearly just want the woman to go away.

Dick wants to pinch you for being so cute. The disgustingly sweet aura you two radiate was enough to make the woman go away. Much to your relief and Dick's amusement. Dick lets himself sink into your embrace.

Dick pinches your cheek as you get the bread from the counter. You swat his hand away with a loaf of slightly stale bread you were gonna rework later. "What?!"

"Nothing, you're just so damn cute, honey." Dick laughs, pinching your cheek again.

"Says the dork who punched someone." You say, pecking him on the lips.

Dick rolls his eyes. "He totally deserved it."

"Sure, sure."

Ok, he did.

Dick pecks your lips. "Let's go find you a bouquet and a minister so you can keep that ring on."

You flush not noticing that you haven't taken the ring off. Dick looks down at you like he's the luckiest man in the world.

“Will it still make you happy?” Dick asks, fidgeting in front of the courthouse.

You raise a brow at him prompting him to elaborate.

“Getting married without a proper ceremony, I mean.”

Ah. You clutch the bouquet of cornflowers to your chest, twining your finger with his. “As long as I have you it’ll be perfect.”

Dick sniffles. “Stop saying things like that.”

“You started~”

Dick presses his forehead against your, letting out a low trill. “I can’t wait to sign on the paper and make you my wife. Officially.”

You nudge your nose against his. “I can’t wait either.”

The minister looks between the two of you suspiciously, probably looking for signs of which one of you suggested eloping. “You may now say your vows.”

Dick takes out a crumpled sheet of paper with yellowing edges. In a cool crisp voice, he begins to speak:

“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

The wind rises in your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. You try to keep yourself together.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hope, always perseveres.”

You cup your hand over your mouth, your father’s words coming to life through Dick’s voice.

“Love never fails.”

Dick reaches out to you, wiping the tears running down your face. You don’t know if Dick knows how much that meant to you but you’re endlessly thankful.

You feel flush. You’re not really sure you could follow that up. God, you really should have prepared more. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to turn tail and run.

Set me as a seal upon your heart,

as a seal upon your arm;

for love is strong as death,

passion fierce as the grave.

Its flashes are flashes of fire,

a raging flame.

Many waters cannot quench love,

neither can floods drown it.

If one offered for love

all the wealth of one’s house,

it would be utterly scorned.

Dick looks at you, fondness curving his lips. You smile back at him sheepishly.

The minister clears his throat. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Dick picks you up and spins you around then brings you close to kiss you. You giggle at his theatrics. In the corner of your vision, you could see the minister just looking extremely tired.

“Give me the bouquet.”

You don’t mainly because you have a policy of making people explain things before you do anything and also because you were hoping to throw the bouquet yourself.

Dick tilts his head. “Uh, give me two.” He pauses. “Please?” “Will you promise me this won’t curse anyone?”

“Just because my dad’s girlfriend is a sea witch does not mean I curse people.”

“And you feel absolutely no need to unpack that, huh?”

“Sweetie, pleeeeeease.” He gives you the big eyes and you silently wonder how selkie divorce works.

You hand him two flowers. He pinches off the stems and says: “Hold out your hands.”

“Can I at least know what kind of ungodly ritual my husband is suckering me into?” You huff as he puts one of the cornflowers in your palms.

“It’s more superstition really. My mom used to say that if you tell a flower about your love for someone and let the sea carry it away, then your love will be able to weather storms.”

You want to tell him that based on the stories the sea had nothing to do with the ferocity of his parent’s love but when you look back into the glitter of nostalgia in his eyes you know that there is nothing for it.

You hold the cornflower close, whispering promises to it, an endless litany of devotions that you hope only the sea will hear. Dick beside you does much the same with regular pauses and additions to his. When you’re both finished, you let the flowers fall harmlessly into the water and watch them, despite all odds, drift together in the ocean.

Dick nuzzles you into the floor. You lay flat on his pelt as Dick hovers over you. He kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. You hum and slide your hands up his back and part your lips to give him access. Dick pulls away, dragging his lips down your face. His teeth graze on the skin of your neck. Feeling ticklish, you giggle. He smiles pressing another wet kiss to your skin before pulling back. You whine already missing the close contact.

"I think we forgot something." Dick says, gently grasping your wrist and kissing it.

You furrow your brow. You play with his hair as you try to think. "Pretty sure we did everything," you mumble. You shiver when you feel Dick's teeth catch on your pulse, his luminescent eyes staring at you intently. "I'm telling you, sweetheart, you're forgetting something."

You groan. It would be easier to think if Dick's lips weren't on your skin. "We've gotten the rings, thrown the rice, and hit Wally in the head with the bouquet..." You bite back a squeak when Dick sucks a hickey onto your wrist.

"Getting warmer, darling."

You flush. You try to control your breathing but your skin feels so hot against his. You and Dick have met with a minister and he's also carried you over the threshold... All that's left is...

You can feel Dick's hand slide up your shirt, his hand warm against your chilly skin. "Consummation." You whisper, swallowing thickly.

Dick's eyes are bright and mischievous in the firelight. "Bingo." He lets go of your wrist and lowers himself to press a hungry kiss on your lips; it was all tongue and teeth as his hips move against yours. He pinches your nipples between his fingers drawing out a gasp from you. Dick takes this chance to deepen the kiss. He groans into the kiss when you tug at his hair.You moan against him, wrapping your legs around his waist trying to pull him closer. Your movements are clumsy, speaking to your inexperience. Dick is going to take his time with you.

Dick kisses your nose and pulls away. He can’t resist. Dick drags the shirt slowly over his body. He hears your breath hitch and a vain sort of pride fuels Dick’s ego. It was one thing for other people to tell him he was pretty. It was an entirely different thing to have you look at him with so much awe and reverence. That look in your eyes always makes his skin prickle with delight.

You trace the shape of his muscles with your fingers, your mouth parted slightly as you drink in the sight of him. Dick is no less awe-inspiring than the first time you saw him. You marvel over the scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. None of the imperfections on his skin ever managed to dull his beauty. Unfairly, they only enhanced it and took your breath away every time you noticed a new detail about him. Your hand drifts down to the V of his abs; the tough makes him tremble as it dips closer to the hem of his pants. Dick takes in a sharp breath before kissing you again. It was partly because he could never get enough of your lips and partially to get your attention.

“Honey, I want to see you too.” He whispers into your lips.

Your body locks up at his words and a heat spreads across your chest, your neck, and up to your ears. Your mouth feels so dry all of a sudden and your feet turn into blocks of ice. What if Dick finds you repulsive? What if he sees you naked and he can’t stand what he sees? Will he leave or will he smile through it all the while gritting his teeth through it? You’re not pretty, not the way Dick is and you certainly can’t measure up to the other Selkies you’ve met. How the flying fuck were you supposed to compte with Babs or Kori? You seriously consider running away and hiding in your room until you feel Dick’s teeth graze against the column of your neck.

“Please.” He breathes and his voice is so thick with want that it’s enough for you to forget the desire to melt into the baseboards even for just a moment. You don’t want him to be disappointed, to know that he’s traded down. You’re scared. You don’t want to be but you’re fucking terrified.

“It’s ok,” he whispers. “I know you’re nervous.” He kisses your forehead. Dick knows he needs to be patient. He’s waited to feel all of you for this long. He’s willing just to wait a bit more if it means you’re comfortable.

You close your eyes, grabbing the hem of your shirt. Dick kisses your eyelid. He bites his lip, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into your flesh. It’s so supple and hot against his. Instead, he busies himself by helping you out of your bra but his fingers are clumsy with his brain too full of your skin. You giggle as you both fumble for the clasps.

Dick wastes no time peppering your chest with kisses once you’re completely bare. “So pretty.” Dick purrs against your chest. He nuzzles into the valley of your breasts as he feels your breaths even out. Sliding his hands up and down your sides reverently, he makes certain that you know just how beautiful you are with every bite, every kiss, and every touch.

His attention goes to your breasts. You arch your back as Dick begins rolling your nipples between his teeth. He savors all the little gasps and mewls you make. "Dick." You sigh out his name happily. Dick groans, hips gyrating against yours. "Dick." You repeat, tugging at his hair. You rock your hips in time with his.

Your voice is driving him insane. The way his name rolls off your tongue like silk fries his nerves. All he wants to do is make you scream it over and over while he takes care of you and lets you know just how good you feel against him.

"That's it baby, let me make you feel good."Dick says, giving your nipple one last lick before taking care of the other. "I wanna make you feel so good, sweetheart."

The husky quality of his voice makes you shiver. Your fingers travel down his back, fingernails lightly scraping against his skin. He trembles against your as you slide your hand down his chest and down his pants. Your fingertips brush against the head of his member. You wrap your hand around his cock, teasing his head with your thumb. Your thumb is wet with his precum as Dick pants softly into your skin. Dick can't help but move against your hand.

"Sweetheart," he grunts, " I can't... I-"

Dick grasps your wrist, pressing a kiss to it before pulling it over your head. You whine. Dick's breaths tickle your ear as he tries to steady them. He kisses your cheek and nibbles on your ear. Dick grabs your other arm and pins it down next to the other, pinning both hands with one hand. You squirm underneath him, trying to break his hold.

"Let me take care of you." He says, trying to level his voice but you're making it so hard.

You drag your leg up his calf. Dick brushes his lips down your neck, sucking a hickey into every available surface of your skin on the way down your hips and murmuring ‘I love you’ as he does.

"Dick, please." You moan.

"Sweetheart," Dick says, biting the soft flesh of your hip.

You wriggle in his grip causing the hand wound around them to tighten. Dick watches you intently as he bites another hickey into the flesh or your hip. You gasp out his name and Dick can feel his cock twitch. He needs more.

“Shhhh, I know, Honey. Shhhhhh.” Dick says, kissing along the hem of your pants before his teeth catch on the fabric. Dick tugs the button free and pulls the zipper down with his teeth. You think your heart stops. Every little thing he does drives you up the wall. He hooks his fingers to the top of your pants and pulls them down slowly. You can feel the fabric drag against your skin as Dick presses I love yous up your leg.

Dick bites lightly at your ankle as he tosses your pants over his shoulder. Dick licks his lips, they’re plush and glossy from the saliva. He’s looking at you with so much love and adoration that you feel yourself melt. You’re suddenly painfully aware of your nakedness. You snap your legs shut shyly, withdrawing your ankle from his hold. You curl in on yourself, muttering an apology.

He shakes his head, chuckling softly. Dick pushes the hair out of your face. He presses his forehead against yours, kissing you softly and running his hands up and down your sides. Your legs slowly open to let his body closer to yours. You just want to feel his skin against yours.

"I love how your body reacts to me, honey." Dick winks.

You wrap your arms around him, your muscles relaxing a fraction. He can feel the ring on your finger dig into the back of his neck. You are his and he is yours. Dick trills at the thought. You laugh, the vibrations from his lips tickling you.

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" Dick asks, nibbling your lip.

"The whole world knows," you snort, "especially after that fiasco at the town square."

"I had to protect my wifey's honor." He says with a cheeky smile that takes over his face.

"Somehow, I feel like knocking his teeth in was a bit much." You say, pulling him into another kiss because... well, your husband is awfully adorable even if he is a disaster.

"Only seems fair," he says, his hand travelling down your body, kissing your clavicle, "he was being rude to my wife." Dick's fingers dip between your soaking folds. You were dripping just for him. Dick would be lying if he said that didn't inflate his ego. With his fingers curled inside you as he drags them in and out, you arch into him. You thread your finger through his hair and pull.

"Dickie, I want you," you whisper, rubbing your knee against his crotch. "I want you so much."

Dick ruts against your leg, breath ragged and desperate. Dick's body is so sensitive to your touch; it's ridiculous.

"I want you too." He manages barely above a whisper.

"Then fuck me, " you look away from his, biting your lip, "please?"

"Honey," he groans. God, why did you have to say it like that? "You're going to make me cum."

"Isn't that the point?" You ask, your nails dragging on his back as you try and fuck yourself on his fingers.

What did Dick do to deserve you?

"It is," he says, taking his hand out of your folds. "But not before I can make you cum first." He licks his fingers in front of you never breaking eye contact as he does.

You cover your face and squeak because damn it Dick you can't just- Who does that?!

Dick hastily shimmies out of his pants, his cock springing free. You hear a pap as his cock slap against the toned muscles of his stomach. You squeak, peaking through your fingers, the slap ringing sinfully in your mind. Dick lets out an amused breath as he hovers over you. Stroking his length, he smears the precum along your inner thigh, whispering how much you turn him on and how he can't get enough of you.

"Sweetheart, I want you to look at me while I fuck you." He grunts and the air in your lungs evaporate. You think you'll follow suit in a few seconds. "Sweetheart, don't make me beg you."He says into your neck.

Dick, you're not helping, you think to yourself but the saccharine way he always says your pet names has you giving into the request. Dick is smiling down at you and your heart melts. He kisses you deeply. You wrap your limbs around him, your heels digging into the small of his back and your fingers tangled in his locks as he slowly enters you.

He moans into your lips and you moan into his. There's a burning stretch inside you that has you begging for more. He bottoms out and your walls flutter around his cock trying to accommodate his girth. A shiver travels up his spine feeling your velvet walls trying to milk his cock. Dick pulls away from the kiss to whisper: "I love you."

"I love you too, hubby. Please move."

"Aye aye, wifey." He says slowly, pulling his length out. You can feel the long drag of his cock against your walls. You mewl for a lack of anything intelligent to say.

The sound is enough to egg him on. He pushes in and out of you in long strokes, enjoying how your body rocks against his chasing your own pleasure. You pepper kisses to his chest and leave your own marks. Dick would be embarrassed by the lewd noises he makes as you do so but he's too caught up in you to really care. He doesn't even care if the whole world can hear him right now, all he cares about is that you're his and that you're loving this as much as he is.

"Baby, you feel so good. Your pussy was made for me. Ah!" Dick says, his hips stuttering when he feels you clench at those words. He kisses your shoulder. He loves the way his name falls from your lips as if it's the only thing you know how to say. "That's it baby. You're so pretty moaning and gasping and begging for my cock."

All Dick can focus on is the sound of your skin slapping against his. You kiss up his neck, nibbling at his Adam's apple as he swallows. "Dickie, I want more."

Dick's mind comes crashing to a halt.

"Dick, please. I want to feel you more. Please, go faster." You say, voice husky with want. It makes Dick feel like his body has turned to gelatin.

He kisses your forehead, a blush spreading across his skin. "Sweetheart, I can't."

"Please Dick." You breathe, pouting at him.

Fuck, you can't look this cute while begging him to fuck you... twice. That's just not fair.

"Sweetheart, if I go any faster, I'm going to cum." The embarrassment is hard to hide.

You drag your nails across his back and lick a stripe up his neck." Dick, I want you to fill me up. Dick, please, I'm so close." You beg, teeth catching on his collarbone, looking at him with watery eyes.

Dick is a sucker and he can never say no to a pretty face. He kisses one of your eyelids before slamming his hips into yours. His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts in and out with wild abandon. He thrusts deeper at an angle that was sure to hit your g spot every time.

You sing his name sweetly as you pull him closer. Your nipples rub against his chest as you bounce on his cock. Your walls constrict around him making it harder to pull out every time. All he wants to do is to stay inside you and revel in your warmth but he wants to bring you over the edge and fuck you stupid. He rolls your clit between his fingers as you whimper into his neck.

You both cum crying each other's name. Dick kisses you as he fucks you through your orgasm, painting your walls with his hot seed.

Dick rests his weight on top of you as he pulls out with some of his seed painting your inner thigh. "I love you." He pants.

"I love you too, you heavy lug." You grouse, trying to push him off of you.

Dick has mercy on you and rolls you two over with you resting on top of him, perfect for cuddling you.

Dick whispers "I love you" and other praises every time he opens his mouth and you return the sentiment by kissing a different part of his face.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow, Dick flushes seeing just how many hickeys he's left you and he flushes even harder seeing his own chest marked up.

"Sorry about that," He says kissing one of the marks. "I just can't help myself-" Kiss "-You look so pretty covered in love bites-" Kiss "-Sweetheart, you gotta stop sounding cute. I'll get hard again- Fuck."

Your hand wraps around his shaft, fingers brushing against his skin experimentally. "But I want you." You say bluntly.

Dick is going to combust. "I want you to. I've wanted you like this for so long."

You stop. Your thumb brushes against the tip of his already leaking cock. Your lips curl into a smile. "Is that why you were so adamant on getting married?" You snicker, booping his nose with yours.

"No, yes, maybe... partially." He stammers out.

You snort. "You know that wasn't necessary for us to..." The flush creeps back on your lips. You somehow have the audacity to look shy while still stroking his shaft. Dick is going to burst.

"I didn't want you to miss out on it," Dick says steadying his breath, feeling himself get harder as he talks or attempts to, "I wanted you to experience it since you told me you dreamt about it as a kid."

You stop and Dick bucks to urge you to keep going.

"You remembered that?" You ask, the expression on your face is complicated.

Dick sits up, brushing a finger against your cheek. "Of course, I did."

"Dork." You sniffle, kissing his cheek.

"Only for you," He laughs but it's cut off by the movement of your hand. "Sweetheart, are you trying to kill me?" He gasps, biting into his knuckle.

"I'm only thanking you for being so sweet." You tease, spreading your mixed juices all over his cock. "and I just love my hubby that's all."

____________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!!!

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be @jadedhillon

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson smut

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wherestoriescomefrom · 3 years ago

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since like one (1) of u asked.

the thing is that typically - historically - romance is written by women. i mean it, even when you go all the way back to the nineteenth century, the modern form of the romance novel was very much being codified by women. 20th century america is considered the peak of the romance novel, and it was practically all women. the historical romance genre is dominated by women. even the early 2000s trend of really weird erotica was mostly women.

this doesn't happen in india. famous romance novelists in india have been men for some reason - you have your chetan bhagat, ravinder singh, durjoy datta - the whole lot, yk? like you might have the occasional preeti shinoy or whatever, but on the whole the really cheap paperbacks are always going to be male writers. and if you ever sit around and wonder "ok but why is romance writing in india mostly men???? that's really weird it doesn't usually happen like that" the answer is the same for practically all of the issues you run into with writing in india. caste.

in this case, the answer is also really fucking bizarre. the reason why romance writing in india is dominated by upper caste men is because typically, women who have access and leisure to english writing publishing are upper caste, and they cannot be allowed to write romance. romance has too many connotations of titillation, cheapness and being available for the lowest common denominator, and you cannot allow the purity of upper caste women to be associated with that sort of thing.

that's really the bottom line of it. at least, that's what my diagnosis of the problem is. there's this really great essay by rachel dwyer on the indian on screen kiss - i think it's in a book edited by francesca orsini - and she comes to a similar sort of conclusion about why kisses cannot be permitted on screen in india. that upper caste actresses wouldn't want lower caste male audiences to see them like that. similarly, no one wants upper caste indian women to write romance that can be read by practically anyone - thats why when you have women in the indian publishing world writing romance, the marketing is really different! compare an anuja chauhan book to a chetan bhagat - she's an upper caste woman, the cover art for her book has those markets. it's typically priced higher, too - an anuja chauhan is going to cost you rs 350 to chetan bhagat's rs 150. there's more female writers in the market now, but i'm usually sus.

its really hard to make lists of good romance writing in india because of all these factors. i have no problems with durjoy datta and all (i think my sister loves his books) but i genuinely find it hard to get into romance written by men. HOWEVER, all of that being said, here's some of the books i've really liked:

1. Keep the Change by Nirupama Subramaniam: ok so like i read this when i was fourteen, so take this recommendation with a pinch of salt. it is painfully upper caste and tam-brahm, but i also remember it being a genuinely really funny book. also, this is a sort of one of the first examples of what is going to become a popular romance form in india - the corporate romance: cosmopolitan, sexy, urban. it's funny and all that, but it's also like a telling example of what's about to come. it's strangely like sex and city, and it is an interesting book in its own right just because of that.

2. Stupid Cupid by Mamang Dai: this is less like a tradition romance book but i,,,, love mamang dai. she's a writer from arunachal pradesh, and some of her other books are just..... *chefs kiss*. this one is lovely because it has two of the things i love: delhi and romance. a woman runs a boarding house where people come and fall in love, and it's just about delhi and it's emotions.

3. Those Pricey Thakur Girls/The House that BJ Built by Anuja Chauhan: i know i spent some time critiquing the politics behind chauhan's writing, but these two books are genuinely so funny, so well written and so cute!! especially the second one, i love that book in particular. chauhan also seems more clued in to the caste politics that back her up, but she's still on thin ice because she loves her rajput heritage. the first book is set during the emergency and has a pride and prejudice vibe, of four unmarried daughters. the second one is modern day and its more unbelievably but way romancey-er for me.

4. Gulab by Annie Zaidi: i was wondering whether i should put this book in or not, because it is less of a romance and more of a ghost story. it is a mental mind fuck, for what its worth, and really lovingly written about a man's first love. genuinely a bit creepy in parts tho, as ghost stories often are.

5. Umera Ahmed's writing: she's pretty central to the Pakistani tv drama, and a lot of her books were adapted for pakistani television. the most famous example of this is probably Zindagi Gulzar Hai, but my favourite would probably be Daam. ahmed's writing was read in translation by me, as my written urdu is really bad. these cannot exactly be classified as romance, but she does deal with love and what it means for women. one thing to be careful of when reading her writing: she is anti ahmaddiya. i won't pretend to know much about pakistani social politics, but i know that that community is very severely discriminated against.

6. Prem Kabootar by Manav Kaul: this book is in hindi, and it's a short story collection. there's an english translation callesd A Night in the Hills, but i cannot vouch for the veracity of the translation. i did love the hindi tho, the titular story is really cute! it is a lot about love and romance in different forms and times while growing up. i even had a chance to watch the play version of that story back in the before times.

Books That Aren't Good, Per Say, But Interesting To Read Category:

7. Once Upon a Curfew by Srishti Chaudhry: ok so like this book is another one set in the emergency but its really bad. its slow paced and the character growth doesnt happen naturally. the romantic hero is quite nice but the lead just doesn't make herself likeable. it's also got some veiled allusions to upper caste delhi university college cultures, and like in a celebratory way?? but on the whole its interesting to read because the emergency only just became an acceptable thing to write about, and it is interesting to see how writers are dealing with it, if you know what i mean??

8. Unmarriageable by Soniah Kamal: ok so this wasn't good, like i feel like it fundamentally misread a lot of what pride and prejudice was about BUT it was interesting because there seems to be a rise of pakistani authors who look at austen. even Austenistaan by Laleen Sukhera is an example of that. i didn't have fun reading this but it's definitely interesting to read. it's nowhere close to my favourite south asian adaptation of austen, but that's a story for another time.

and that's really all i have because thats just how romance genre is in india. i will say this, though: you will find more interesting romantic story telling in hindi writing - even if it is by men. i have a copy of October Junction by Divya Prakash Dubey i was going to get at during the midterm break, and i will report on that in detail whenever i do finish it. in the meanwhile, this is genuinely all i have. on the whole, i really think you can also find far, FAR more interesting ideas of romance in cinema from india. and i don't mean bollywood (although some movies are pretty good!), i mean regional indian cinema!! some marathi movies have such lovely romances, and there's a few malyali ones that are really nice too!! once again though, thats a conversation for another time.

#romance writing #south asian writing #south asian romance #book recommendations #hello void this is ridiculosity #indian politics #indian writing #booklr

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saberstars · 3 years ago

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I'm Here

Pairing: Gender Neutral Y/N & Loki

Fluff, angst, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of depression/mental illness, epilepsy/seizures, mentions of sex, as always if I missed anything feel free to let me know

Summary: Loki & You have a pre-existing friendship with benefits & one night you have a seizure after some spiciness. He cares for you helping you afterwards & makes sure you rest easy & safe. Reader is portrayed to have seizures more so during changes in sleep phases, not awake. The wake seizures or more of a medium ish absence/ focal aware seizure that only occur on occasion & can be “fought” through.

Word Count: 1796

Notes: This was intended to be a gender neutral reader. I think I removed all he/she pronouns.

Additionally, I know that not everyone experiences seizures the same way, and that epilepsy can affect people differently. This is all written from my experiences with it, so I ask that you do not tell me I portrayed something wrong. I can and will accept constructive criticism, But I will not accept someone telling me blatantly that I am wrong with my experiences. Therefore please keep that in mind when reading. I genuinely hope this fic brings others comfort if you suffer from epilepsy or any disorder that causes seizures. Thank You <3

It’s been three years since you found out you suffered from epilepsy. A diagnosis that came late in your life to be fair. As a young child up until you reached adulthood, you suffered from eye shakes that would eventually turn into stuttering spells that made it difficult to breath or not breath properly at all. You never passed out though, you got close a few times, but you managed to stay awake and “fight it off.” You started to notice over time that you’d also get a strange taste in your mouth, almost like metal or as if you were sucking on a battery and it had that zing flavor. You knew that was a precursor and would panic on cue rightfully so. You hated when you had your mini stutter fests because all you could do was hope it didn’t happen.

Of course you complained to your parents as a child but they didn’t think it was anything. They said it was just a panic attack. So you took their word for it. That was until you started having grand mals in your sleep. At first you thought they were just a part of some strange dream, that wasn't real to you, not yet anyway. You would wake up exhausted, sore, sometimes unable to move properly, walk, open and close a fist, and you just overall couldn't stay conscious sometimes. Again you complained to your parents about it, but they said it was nothing. You probably had night terrors or some form of minor sleep paralysis. So you dumbly believed them.

When you moved out, You sought answers, and eventually got them. You were grateful. The medication they prescribed helped tremendously though, it did make you tired but it was worth not having your episodes. Thankfully your case wasn’t as severe as others and it was manageable so long as you took care of yourself and took your medications. Though you were warned, breakthroughs were common, and missing your dose can and would cause a seizure.

Despite having such a diagnosis, you kept it to yourself. You never really told anyone. It wasn’t until you started sleeping with a friend, that you finally divulged your secret too in the event that it ever happened whilst they were with you.

It was someone you randomly slept with on and off with. A friend with benefits, his name was Loki. You had met the god shortly after his father had passed and his home, destroyed. You found comfort with each other despite it being more of a sexual comfort. You both used sex as a way to fight your own demons, a distraction, a quick grab at serotonin. Despite the sex you both developed a very deep friendship. You’d read together on occasion, have very interesting debates on current events, history, as well as other nuances, and a lot of other things. You even met his brother and the avengers at one point.

You both slept soundly after spicy events had taken place 2 hours prior, Loki had come over desperate for attention of any kind. He didn’t say why, but you knew it was a rather serious topic he wished not to discuss and rather lessen the pain with ecstasy. Little did you know, on this day a few years ago he indirectly murdered his mother. He blamed himself dearly, he knew if he would have kept his mouth shut for once in his life she may be here today. So he needed a genuine distraction. One of any kind. Preferable you. Due to the spicy events that took place you missed your dose, due to falling asleep promptly after, which cost you dearly. Missing doses always caused this to happen no matter what.

You gasped for air like usual, your body contorting outwards first with a thrust. You were awake, conscious, and terrified for the few seconds you normally were given before blacking out. You began to stutter violently all the air leaving your lungs as it happened. Until no sounds were made and it was just you chattering. Loki woke immediately, with a completely calm exterior despite a raging mixture of emotions internally. He knew you never called an ambulance for these things because you were normally alone & unaware until you became conscious again. She made him promise to never call 911 unless it was over a certain time length, to save her medical expenses, or unless she stopped breathing for good.

Loki dare not touch you though as you shook and curled up. The last thing he wanted was his godly strength to crush you somehow or cause you more pain. Instead he watched and hovered until you finally stopped. It was a short 50 second one, which was under your time limit, but he still debated calling. It’s not like You would’ve known he lied.

His breathing hitched as he went to check your pulse and airway, ever so delicately, which were both clear and strong.

“Oh thank you.” he whispered

A few hours had slid by with still no response from you. Loki sat next to you, staring down at you, to the point where he would fight the urge to blink, waiting for a stir of some kind from you. He did give the courtesy of redressing you though, in a nightgown from a drawer after an hour slid past. He even went as far as ensuring that you were adequately covered by the blankets to avoid being chilled. It has been 3 ½ hours now, with no stir of any kind from you. He knew it would be awhile before you showed any signs of movement possibly but this worry tore him to his core. In the midst of waiting he refused to just idly go back to sleep next to you, he was determined to stay awake until you were conscious again, so that you knew, he stayed there waiting for you. Loki didn’t know when he found himself talking to you as if you were awake, but all he knew was that it made him feel a bit better, and he hoped that when you woke it would make you feel better too.

“You know, I’ve been reading this really dumb gothic romance novel. I think you’d like it because of how naive the girl is. I know you like to criticize and pick on how they make decisions.” he spoke with a chuckle in his voice thinking back to how you’d flail your arms and drop your book to scream about how dumb some main protagnist could be.

“I'll have to buy you a copy or give you mine when I’m done.” Loki shifted his weight from his right to his left brushing your bangs out of your eyes.

“I don’t know why you keep those so long, all they do is get in the way of your gorgeous eyes.”

It was in that moment you rustled, you shifted your neck ever so slightly, Your eyelids twitch. Loki leaned forward parting his lips as he watched with a heart of hope completely overwhelmed with joy when he saw the color of your iris’s. He exhaled a shaky breath cupping your cheeks which caused you to flinch sending a wave of shocks through your body. It was at that moment you knew. You knew what he saw, what he had gone through. Your heart sank and you immediately berated yourself internally despite your exhausted state.

“It’s ok you don’t have to say or do anything. I’ll stay, I’ll take care of you for as long as you need.” Loki assured you, wanting you to know that you didn’t have to go through this alone. You never really had anyone stay, let alone worry about you. Your eyes began to water as tears rolled down your face.

“I’ll go grab you some water, you’re probably parched. I’ll also grab you a banana. I read that potassium can help with the cramping.” Loki said leaving to yourself for a moment. He also grabbed tissues for your eyes and nose just in case. Upon returning her placed everything at your side offering help to sit up. “Do you need to use the bathroom or help sitting up?” He asked with a gentle tone.

You nodded trying to take a good deep breath so you could speak a bit. “I’m so sorry you had to see that… but thank you. Thank you for staying, for helping. I do need the bathroom and I would appreciate help. My legs are still...” you mustered out with all your might but after a point your tongue refused to work with you.

“Of course, I may be a monster but I’m not entirely cruel. If it helps… you can just think to yourself and I can listen that way. So that you're not struggling too much.” Loki admitted with a tone of self depreciation.

“You're not a monster just because you're different & have made mistakes.” you thought as Loki picked you up bridal style walking you to the bathroom. Of course he placed you down on the toilet and waited outside for you to do what you needed. Since he had only added a nightgown to your previously naked body it made things easier. It was exhausting to just sit up and do everything but you pushed through. You even pushed yourself up and limped to the sink best you could to wash your hands. Upon hearing the faucet though Loki came back in standing behind you offering support if needed.

“Catch me~” you thought before falling back into his arms with a snort.

“You're lucky I have godlike reflexes you minx.” He replied with a hint of flirtation. You had used more than you had in you to wash your hand. Loki caught you obviously and carried you back to the room placing you back on the bed. “No, more like I knew you were ready to catch me.” you slowly thought as exhaustion tugged at your consciousness again. Loki noticed the pill bottle on your dresser before prompting you to take it. Instinctively opening it and sliding one into his hand.

“You should probably take this before you fall asleep.” You took it mentally saying thanks drinking the glass of water with it.

“Yeah that would probably help avoid some added breakdancing.” You joked trying to use humor to lighten the situation. Loki stared plain faced trying not to entertain your joke though, despite finding it secretly witty. Maybe he’d laugh at it when you felt a bit better. Soon after you began to dance between awake and sleep. Loki took note based on how your thoughts jumbled around between multiple things, laughing to himself a bit before minor intrusive fears began picking at you. Loki immediately jumped into action in an attempt to squash them soothing you a bit.

“You can sleep soundly, please get some rest. You don’t have to force yourself to stay awake out of fear or guilt.” Loki spoke in the most caring and sweet tone he could muster up. Trying to convince you that it was going to be ok & it worked. Somehow you knew he was right & that you could trust him completely. You drifted back to sleep peacefully thinking about how for the first time in your life, you didn’t fear sleeping in your bed. You didn’t have intrusive thoughts about whether or not you’d wake up in the morning or not. Which honestly brought tears bubbling their way up and out of Loki's eyes. The amount of trust you had in him in your thoughts, at that moment completely took his breath away. And that was something he wasn’t going to break or ever lose.

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star-maiden · 4 years ago

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Help! These D*** Cards Don’t make sense!

What To Do When a Tarot Reading Seems Like Nonsense

⭐️ First of all, we need to get a few things clear. Tarot won’t always make sense. You will make mistakes. Sometimes, you won’t get any messages at all no matter how hard you try. If this sounds similar to your experience with the cards, don’t feel bad. It doesn’t mean you’re a “bad” reader. As soon as you get more comfortable with the idea of being wrong, you’ll find that your confidence (and subsequently your readings) will improve a lot! Got that? Great! Let’s move on to the topic at hand.

Confused by your tarot cards? Don’t get discouraged.

⭐️ I’m just going to tell you plainly. There isn’t a single tarot reader in the world who hasn’t been completely baffled with their cards at some point. This is natural and a completely normal part of the learning process. What’s more, Tarot is one of those things that you never really stop learning more about. There is always room for growth, and for finding deeper meanings within the stories each card tells. So if you’re hoping to be a “Tarot Master” with omnipotent vision and 100% accurate readings about everything, then I’m afraid I must be the bearer of bad news: There’s no such thing. We’ll all be wrong or confused sometimes, and that’s ok.

Even so, there are a few things to consider if you find yourself bamboozled by your cards more often than not.

Reasons why your tarot cards don’t make sense, and what to do about it.

1. You’re cards haven’t been shuffled properly.

⭐️ This is a common culprit for readings that aren’t making much sense. If you don’t shuffle your cards enough, either straight out of the plastic wrapping or after too many readings, you won’t get any clear messages. This is especially true if you’ve been doing a lot of readings, and just quickly shuffling your pulled cards back into the deck afterwards. If you notice that you are getting a lot of cards from previous readings, and they aren’t making much sense, it might be time for a good shuffle.

What to do: If your deck is new, you’ll want to spend several days shuffling and getting to know the cards. This will mix up the cards enough for you to actually get messages, and help you become more familiar with the imagery of the deck (which will improve your intuitive readings).

⭐️ If you deck isn’t new, it’s likely that you just haven’t shuffled well enough in between readings. It happens. Just give them a good shuffle, and you’ll be set.

2. You don’t know the card meanings well enough.

⭐️ Wait! Don’t get upset yet! I’m not saying that you have to memorize the traditional meaning of every card, and use only that definition as the “be all, end all” of card interpretations. Far from it! That would be super boring. I’m also not saying that you can’t use the guidebook (you totally can). In fact, if you use your guidebooks, you’ll be able to learn the subtle nuances that each deck author attributes to the card meanings. It’s pretty neat stuff!

⭐️ However, a basic understanding of your cards and their key meanings will help you read accurately with consistency. A big part of intuitive reading is being able to recognize the symbolism within the cards. If you know a keyword for each card, you can use them as a starting point for your interpretations.

⭐️ For example: Let’s say you have the 4 of cups. Traditionally, it shows a moody figure, staring off into the distance, with spilled cups before them. Above the figure is often some sort of offering that they can’t see. If you know that a keyword for the 4 of cups is apathy, you could use the symbolism in the card to read it as “having lost interest in a situation”. The figure feels apathy for the situation he’s in, and is not interested in what is being offered. That’s an example of the traditional, symbolic meaning of the tarot in action. Ready to take this a step further? Once you know the traditional meaning, you can combine it with other cards, as well as the details of the situation, to “springboard” into other interpretations.

⭐️ Example 2: Maybe you know that “apathy”, the traditional meaning of the 4 of cups, doesn’t completely fit. In this imaginary reading, the client is asking you about an argument they had with their partner. They are hurt and upset, and have asked you if it’s worth it to stay in the relationship. Clearly, they are not feeling apathetic toward the situation! In this case, we would go beyond “apathy” or “loss of interest”. What is the energy of this card? Combining the imagery with the traditional meaning, we can generate other meanings. Stagnancy, miscommunication and an inability to see another perspective are all alternative, non-traditional interpretations. In this situation, I might tell this client that there is some confusion between them and their partner. Neither one has a clear understanding of how the other feels. Therefore, it might be a good idea to discuss the current situation with each other once they have both had time to calm down. The surrounding cards will usually help you fine tune your interpretation.

What do to: There’s no way around this one. Study the cards. In particular, the imagery of your deck will be very useful to become familiar with. Read your guidebook, read other tarot books and blogs, journal about your readings. If books are not your thing, there are countless YouTube videos and podcasts that cover tarot these days. My favorite tarot podcast is Tarot bytes by Theresa Reed. Pace yourself. You don’t have to learn everything in a week. Most importantly, read, read, read with your deck. The more you read, the more you will begin to understand how your deck communicates and how your intuition picks up on this subtle energy.

3. You are too emotionally invested in the outcome of the reading.

⭐️ This mostly happens if you are reading for yourself, but it can also happen when reading for close friends or family. Sometimes, if we are hyper focused on a particular outcome or in a state of reaction, it’s easy to project our own personal feelings onto the cards. This skews the interpretation. Its not a bad thing to read for yourself, your family or your friends. However, it’s a good idea to keep this point in mind.

What to do: If you are nervous, upset or in any way unable to remain objective about the outcome, it’s probably best to not do the reading. You can try again later when things are calmer.

4. You’ve ignored the focus question.

⭐️ This happens when a reader fails to take into account the “focus” or theme of the reading. For example, if a client asks you about work, and The Lovers card comes up, you should not tell them that they will meet their soulmate soon. This has nothing to do with what they were asking about. You’re more likely to encounter this problem when reading for others, but it can happen when reading for yourself.

What to do: An easy answer, stay on script. Keep the original question in the forefront of your mind during the entire reading. Like our example above, if you are reading about work, don’t start interpreting anything about romance. The cards are nuanced and varied enough to have multiple meanings. Instead, if The Lovers card appears in a work related reading, consider how the energy of the card might show up within the context of the reading. Instead of a “soulmate”, you might say that this client needs to find a harmony and balance between their home and work life. This is just one of many possible ways to interpret this card within the context of a work-related reading.

5. You’ve asked a question that is too specific OR that the tarot cannot answer.

⭐️ This can happen with both self-readings and readings for other people. Tarot is a powerful tool of self reflection and insightful divination, but it is not omnipotent. Further more, tarot readers themselves are not mind readers. We have to have context and understanding in order to see the connections clearly enough to interpret them with accuracy. With tarot, the more context we have about a situation, the better a reading will be. So for vague questions like “what will happen next Tuesday?”, a reader would need to supplement the reading with their intuitive abilities. It can be done, but the chance of misinterpretation is much higher if a reader is unsure how to weave the tarot and clair senses together.

⭐️ Some types of questions are ill-suited to tarot. Generally speaking, these would be questions that limit the ability of the seeker to act. “Will I pass my exam?” would not be a good question because it leaves no room for change or growth. A reader might struggle to interpret this correctly unless they are very experienced.

⭐️ Another type of question that you might see a lot are third party questions. For example: “Is person A having an affair with person B?” This type of question that doesn’t directly involve the seeker in any way is not useful with tarot. Most likely, you won’t get a clear answer or any useful information. Tarot is not a tool to be used to spy on others. In fact, it’s quite disrespectful to use the cards in this way.

What to do: A lot of this boils down to personal preference and reading style, but a good rule of thumb is to ask open ended questions. In this sense, questions that begin with “how” or “what” will be better than questions that start with “is”. Remember, tarot does not deal in absolutes. It reflects energy of situations and projected futures, and energy can change. Nothing is 100% certain with tarot.

#learn tarot #tarot #tarot resources #witchblr #witch community #divination #tarotblr #divination community

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lindseysomething · 3 years ago

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Ok so I thought I’d make a post about some common crystal questions/issues I’ve had come up with people lately

1. I’d very much recommend going to a shop to buy crystals so you can see them in normal lighting (pictures on websites will have lighting that make the crystals look much more impressive, and can be deceptive about the size) and so you can feel the weight, make sure they’re not fake etc. You’d be surprised how common crystal shops are now, but if you can’t find one or they don’t have what you want, find a website or Etsy seller with lots of good reviews and pictures. Please do not buy crystals on Amazon.

2. Know what’s natural, man-made, and a real stone but enhanced in some way (dyed, treated, coated etc) Some people don’t have preferences and some do, either way it’s nice to know what you have.

3. Hematite is fragile. Maybe your ring broke because it “absorbed negative energy” ...or maybe it is a relatively soft material prone to breaking and not the most suitable material for a ring.

4. Moldavite is expensive. Bottom line. You will not find cheap moldavite anymore, it is finite and the demand is so high the price has skyrocketed. If you find it cheap, it’s fake. It’s also unfortunately easy to make fake moldavite, but it only comes from the Czech Republic and whoever you buy it from should be able to prove their moldavite is authentic.

5. Another note on moldavite, but more of a personal opinion, is that it’s not ~scary~ People on tiktok in the last couple years have talked a lot about how it changed their entire life, but when they say they quit their job, broke up with their boyfriend, and cut off all their hair, they on some level already had the desire to do those things. Moldavite didn’t just make it happen IMO.

5. Howlite that is dyed blue is often sold as turquoise. Very cheap costume jewelry that looks like turquoise is blue howlite. This is another stone that can be pretty pricy, perfect very solid blue turquoise is definitely worth more.

6. A lot of citrine is actually heat treated amethyst. Natural citrine is clearer and more consistent in color. If it’s bright yellow or darker brown, it was heat treated.

7. Some crystals can go in water, some absolutely cannot. Figure out which it is before putting one in water.

8. Selenite- very very fragile. Basically if you look at it a little too hard, it will break. Absolutely cannot get wet.

9. Some crystals have several names, trade names are used sometimes to make a crystal sound more unique and rare.

10. Agate- agget, not a-gate or ah-got-tay

#crystals

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cowboyjen68 · 4 years ago

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Recently I’ve been debating getting top surgery. I know that some butches get top surgery and seem happy with the results but I’ve also met some who grew out of their discomfort with time. So I guess I’m debating if I should wait to see if maybe the discomfort around my chest will ease with age or if I should look into getting top surgery. The ones I’ve talked to also had this discomfort about their breast growing during puberty but they said after some time it decreased but for mines it seems like a problem that hasn’t gone away.

I am so sorry for the delay, seems work and side gigs are taking up a lot of my time lately.

I can only speak from my experience with my body and from other lesbians I talk to... and I talk to a lot. I have many friends across generations. Many of my younger friends are butch but not all. My older friends are a myriad of types of lesbians and as diverse as the greater population. This weekend now that we are all vaccinated we had a campfire with 12 lesbian, 5 butches present. We have definitely had discussions about our breasts, discomfort, and the mourning over loosing breasts to cancer (or the danger of cancer). Most of my buddies, from 19 to 68 share similar stories about learning to be at least “okay” with their bodies in a world where our physical attributes are often used to define our personality, and our worth.

One thing we ALL share, as women, not just lesbians, is that we were at best dissatisfied that we have breasts starting as soon as they begin to form. I was 7 when mom told me I had to wear a shirt outside. Wow was I pissed. AND as a 7 years old I knew it had nothing to do with me but everyone seemed just fine with the fact that men were the issue but since we can’t change them we must change our own behavior.

I remember thinking “how is me not wearing a shirt a problem”. Breasts had been neutral for me at that point. Just another part of my body. Once I realized “they” made me different, more vulnerable, more controlled, less “human” than those around me without breasts I turned my hate on my body instead of the people who really were to blame. Just like I was taught, I can’t control the men but I perhaps I could control my body.

I have raised at least 10 teenage daughters (2 are lesbians now) my youngest adopted is 15 and when her other mom told her to put on a shirt in the summer of her 8th birthday, even in our rural yard she looked at me dead in the eye and said “why haven’t you fixed this yet?” (meaning women’s bodies being subject to the eyes and opinions of men). I wonder.. why haven’t we? She is the youngest, but all the others grew from hating their breasts to at least neutral, some really love their bodies and that is lovely.

Lesbians are unique in our dealings of men’s opinions because we never need or want the approval of men in relation to our bodies. The opposite in fact.. we would prefer they see us void of anything they find sexual. Many women, straight, bi, lesbian eventually either learn to give no shits about the opinions of men or they learn to work around that feeling.

Ok.. all that being said, my story. My breasts are B cups, perhaps C’s when I was a bit heavier weight wise. I wore regular bras WITH padding and always as tight as a could to make them less noticeable. When I came out i switched to sports bras because i was embracing being butch and no longer wanted to play the game of wearing “pretty bra” . I never wore tight shirts, always baggy. I wore the tightest bra I could wear to keep my breasts smaller, less visible. FOR YEARS.

Going to a women’s festival opened my eyes to the many ways bodies can be. The many ways BUTCH bodies can exist. Women went topless and NO one sexualized them. (except when appropriate-- like while flirting etc when it was welcomed). Thousands of people, many topless and no one, not one person was oogled, cat called, teased, or otherwise treated as different than someone wearing a shirt. What did they all share? Why was it different than in other places? Women. All women and mostly lesbians. However that did not automatically translate to “I am going back to the real world and giving no fucks about the reality of existing with breasts in our world”. It took time.

I no longer wear a bra just an undershirt. BUT I am in control of where I go, who I interact with most of the time. If I was still at my retail job, I’d probably still wear a bra. I no longer dislike my breasts. I love them. They bring me pleasure, they bring my girlfriend pleasure. They are a lovely part of me BUT that does not mean I am not very aware in public of my nipples being visible or of people noticing I am braless. And I imagine it is harder for women with larger breasts.

Had binders been a “thing”, had I had access to a double mastectomy, or the idea of it i cannot say that would have pursued either. The pattern suggests I would have. But again., neither were on my radar, not options presented to me or encouraged as a way to solve my discomfort.

I have three friends who have had elective double mastectomies. And many who had one to prevent or remove cancer. Several of them suffer consistent and painful nerve damage that is not treatable, is quite common, is unpredictable (they can’t know who will have it) and possibly life long. Of the three who were trying to alleviate the distress of dysphoria, all three regret the decision and none of them are over 30 yet. These women are all lesbians. Those who had the surgery because of cancer are thrilled to be happy and alive with less worry, although they do deal with nerve issues and mourn the loss of a part of their body.

I have a few trans men friends, although we are not close. A couple of them have had double mastectomies but their thoughts or feelings have not come up, we are just not close enough for such a personal discussion and none have had the surgery for more than 2 years. I have had lots of older lesbians friends (and a few younger) who did get breast reduction surgery and their health and mental health were both improved. Their backs are better, their clothes fit better and they feel more active, less self conscious with out the physical risks of a full mastectomy.

The easy answer and what I WANT to say, is be patient, find lots of older lesbians friends to show you your body is neutral, men are the problem. Give yourself time to understand that your breasts are as butch as the rest of you. They are a natural part of your body and how you are meant to be. Also, I know there is not an easy answer. Men will continue to exist. They will continue to sexualize lesbians (with or without breasts). I didn’t outgrow wishing my breasts could just disappear(in public settings) until my 40′s but it got easier and easier to sort of “live with it”. I am many times over grateful for my healthy breasts now.

Seek therapy.. and not someone who will just go along with what ever you say. My therapists works me hard. She makes me answer the hard questions. She has me vocalize things that I don’t even want to admit in my head let alone out loud. Find one like that. Find one who is willing to explore all the reasons your breasts cause you distress. Then, if you decide to proceed, you can do so knowing you were worth the hard work and you can feel more confident in making an informed decision. Don’t make any decisions based on the opinions of men. Your body. YOUR decision. Write that down on a post it and keep it somewhere you will see it.

If you would like to speak to some others who are struggling with how you feel or want to talk to lesbians who can tell you about their double mastectomies, DM me, perhaps I can connect you.

If anyone wants to add their experience in the notes please be kind. No judgement for anyone making such a difficult decision.

One last thing to this long post. From one butch to another. I care about you and I am saddened and angry at bull shit you have to wade through in this world. I get it. You are not alone.

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t4tlawlight · 4 years ago

Photo

Occam's razor is the principle that, of two explanations that account for all the facts, the simpler one is more likely to be correct.

this post is going to cover traits specific to the manga and the television drama, since those are the best adaptations to showcase L’s autism. THIS POST is required reading before you read anything i’m about to type, because it explains what kind of character niche L falls into--an unintentionally autistic coded character. i’ll talk more about that at the end.

i’m going to talk about manga L first, since he’s the original version after all. i’m going to go in order of physical traits, to behavioral, to his character writing. also, tumblr eats posts that have outside links, so i’m going to have my non-tumblr sources in a separate post, here.

anyways, more under the cut!

MANGA/ANIME:

sitting with his legs up and spine bent / sitting on the floor

this is such a big one and its extremely common in ppl with autism. sitting in chairs normally is uncomfortable to outright painful w many ppl with these disorders, myself included. L sitting like that (which, to recall, is a blatant homage to sherlock holmes, another character that is so blatantly autistic coded you can find absolutely ridiculous amounts of writing on the topic) and being like "I HAVE TO SIT LIKE THIS TO THINK PROPERLY" is so autistic. like sitting in a certain way to give you specific sensory stimulus/avoid distracting discomfort and pain is a thing. i found this post (1) written by an autistic person on the topic of sitting in chairs being uncomfortable, and it says as much:

“I suspect that seating discomfort is common in autism (though by no means limited to autistic people). Many of us, particularly as children, benefit greatly from chairs designed to be non-stationary: rocking chairs, “fidget” chairs, and so forth. These can improve focus, compensate for proprioceptive hypo-sensitivity, and alleviate restlessness. In short, many “attention issues” can be fixed simply by providing a little motion for the person sitting. Small change, huge results. That's what accommodations do at their best. They make (often minor) adjustments that have profound impacts.”

so when L says that sitting the way he does, for a specific sensory experience, improves his ability to think, it’s perfectly in line with this idea. Also it’s a good pressure stim.

standing with a slouch / shifting his weight around

to begin: yes! it’s very common for autistic people to stand or walk oddly for a number of different reasons, from physical comorbidity to other issues such as dyspraxia (see: movie L). From an article by YAI (2), an I/DD (intellectual and/or developmental disabilities) community program:

“Kyphosis (a curved spine), collapsed chest, dropped shoulders and even scoliosis are observed in many of our patients. These myriad of postural issues may result from reduced strength, decreased biomechanical stability, or from a sensory impairment, such as apraxia.

Depending on the scene, L has mild to severe kyphosis which is very common in autistic individuals. Other things mentioned in that article if you want to click on it is instability in standing, where you sort of shift your weight around a lot between your feet or rest all of your weight on one foot, which L is literally doing the first time we see all of him.

speaking with a monotone voice.

i obviously can’t show a picture for this one and it honestly depends on the voice actor you find for L, but in the anime in particular L has a very flat tone. a lot of this is bc he has a dry sense of humor but. just know that it’s very common for autistic people to have a flat affect (or go the other way into being too loud/emotive).

his eating habits.

a lot (a LOT) of autistic ppl myself included can only eat certain kinds of food for texture and flavor reasons. HOWEVER there’s a term in the autism community called “samefoods” which is really well put by tumblr users candidlyautistic and autism-asks:

“Samefoods or samefooding is a community word to describe the autistic trait of eating the same food over, and over and over . . . It is part sensory, part routine driven in most cases. A lot of times we samefood because we need that particular mouthfeel / texture / taste, and a lot of times even after that need passes, it turns into a need for routine until you actively dislike that food again.”

“Samefooding on the other hand is closer to a special interest. When I have a samefood (chocolate ice cream, currently), I really, really want that food. I could eat that food endlessly and not get tired of it. I will get upset if I’m not able to have the food in a day. For me, it usually is kind of routine based as well. For instance, with my current samefood, I have some in the evenings and it’s become part of how I wind down from my day.”

we don’t know exactly why L specifically desires sweet food or if he considers it part of his routine, but what we do know is that he really wants to eat sweet food and avoids eating anything other than sweet food, so it could either be that he’s a picky eater and can’t handle savory or he’s samefooding on sweets!

wearing the same clothes

L wears the same clothes every single day. It’s also worth noting that what he does wear is baggy, too-big clothing, the kind that wouldn’t be tight and uncomfortable. once again, sensory issues are a huge thing for autistic individuals. one of my favorite aspects is that in no adaptation does he wear socks. even L wears shoes, he wears them like slippers, not putting them on all the way. people comment that he seems like he’s poor, but we know for a fact that he’s very rich and that wearing these clothes is a personal choice he made.

not caring for himself/outsourcing his self-care

i don’t think one day is exactly canon, rather it’s an exaggeration of what might actually happen--i.e. L doesn’t have a huge closet full of the same outfit, but he does have several versions of the same outfit on rotation; L doesn’t use a human washing machine, but Watari might help him/encourage him to bathe regularly. One Day is a parody comic, but it was made by the creators for a reason and that reason is that L pretty obviously relies on a caretaker (Watari) for his personal needs. Watari, in the manga proper, cooks and cleans and does most things for L. we’ll come back to this topic when we get to the drama though.

doing stimming behaviors

if you don’t know what stimming is, it refers to self-stimulating behaviors, usually involving repetitive movements or sounds. everyone stims to some extent, but in autism it tends to be more obvious, go on for longer, and sometimes be more disruptive to others. it’s often used to help deal with sensory overload, or used to express feelings--think of an autistic person being happy and flapping their hands in the air.

there are a LOT of instances of L displaying stimming behavior, from stacking his food or things on his desk, to spinning in his chair, to biting his fingers/using them to press on his lips, to wriggling and tapping his toes. here are some specific instances:

there are a lot more. i’ll talk about more when we get to dramaverse, but if you rewatch/reread death note it’s definitely worth noting whenever L does something like this!

detective work as a special interest

ok, first and foremost i want to establish what a special interest is. Tumblr user cartoon has my favorite explanation of what a special interest is that i’ve seen to date:

“To have a deep, intense, passionate and incredibly focused / narrowed interest in a certain area of study, subject, topic or thing - to the exclusion of other interests. This interest is something that exists for the long-term, most often lasting for multiple months, years, or even you’re entire life “

L says that he only does detective work because it’s a hobby, and he finds it entertaining. We’ve also seen that he’s been at it for quite some time--if you take side content (the wammy’s house comic, LABB) seriously, then he’s been at it since childhood, with unwavering interest. it definitely comes across to me as L having a special interest in detective work, rather than it just being a normal hobby or a job for him, especially since he says it isn’t out of any moral obligation.

germaphobia

Germaphobia is very common for individuals with autism. a lot of the time it’s actually sensory issues associated with “dirty” things, and a lot of the time it’s because features of OCD are heavily comorbid with autism, including contamination OCD and such fears. regardless of the reason, though, L’s aversion to touching Bad Things is a very autistic behavior, and so is his resulting quirk that he tends to hold things in a very odd manner!

muted emotional expression

this is getting more into L’s character, but L tends to feel and express emotions in a very muted way. not to say he doesn’t have them, but for instance in the example above, L doesn’t have a solid grasp on what exactly he’s feeling. he thinks he might be acting irrationally and overemotionally because he logically should be afraid, but he isn’t sure, and none of these emotions present themselves visibly.

i’ve also seen it said that Ukita’s death is another good example of his muted response to emotion--he tells Aizawa to stay rational and his voice doesn’t waver as he tells him as much, but he holds himself tightly. for someone with poor emotional competence, these physical signs of distress can be hard to read in oneself, but Aizawa (a man who is extremely in-tune with his emotions) can tell immediately.

high logic, low empathy

L is also a character who, like many autistic people, lacks a certain degree of empathy. it’s not that he doesn’t have any, but it’s limited enough--and he values logic over it enough--that he’s willing to make extreme decisions and take a “ends justify the means” approach (such as using people as bait.) in the example above, L takes a moment to work through what it must actually feel like, which rings as very autistic.

bluntness/not caring about social convention

there are so many examples of this i honestly could list them all day, but L is a character who is very to-the-point and doesn’t care about mincing his words. he can be outright rude to the people around him, especially if he considers them not worth basic courtesy. see: Matsuda.

DRAMAVERSE

if you all knew me you should have known this section is inevitable. i’m not going to talk about every single adaptation because i do not have the time and the only other adaptation that is meaningful in that regard is the movieverse (i am fairly certain that movie L is dyspraxic) but on account of the fact that i don’t care about them i won’t subject you all to them here.

anyway, drama L shows much the same traits as animanga L above (they are, after all, technically the same character) but he displays them in different ways.

he has a much more advanced degree of germaphobia, with Watari saying he’s sensitive to outside air and spraying everyone who enters his space with disinfectant, but not making them wash their hands or anything like that, so we can kind of tell that his issues are more rooted, again, in a fear of germs rather than any actual medical issue. he wants to feel as though he is clean, not necessarily actually be clean. this is very common in contamination OCD, which has a high comorbidity with autism. (my girlfriend has a very good headcanon post about drama L and OCD that isn’t so much analysis than just plain fun, but it’s worth a read!)

he stims, but he has a different array of stims than animanga L--he chews on his jelly pouch bottles,

he tosses it between his hands,

he kicks his feet,

and he bounces in his chair.

he still sits in an unconventional manner. he still samefoods, this time even more exclusively--he only eats Lucky Charge jelly pouches and nutritional bars. Watari onscreen puts his shirts on for him, as well as cooking, cleaning, and mending his clothes for him.

however, there are a few traits that are drama-exclusive that i think really add to an analysis of his autism!

social scripting

social scripting and echolalic scripting are both commonly described as “scripting,” but are very different! echolalic scripting is like echolalia, but echolalic scripting is the recitation of longer passages of dialogue from things the individual has heard before. but social scripting is when you memorize common conversations so you can rattle it off without worrying too much! this can be very handy, such as exchanging basic pleasantries or ordering food, but it can also backfire if someone responds in a way your script’s not set up for. you can find more information on the difference in this video (3).

now, this relates to L in that there are two separate scenes where L says the same thing, rather inappropriately:

L: When I consider Kira’s personality, could it be that the strong-willed daughter is Kira? Or could that sweet-looking son of yours surprise us by proving to be him? You never know what humans are hiding beneath the surface... Soichiro: Enough. L: Sorry. It was just a joke.

-- Episode 2

L: Light-kun. Oh, I’m sorry... If I called you “Yagami-san,” it would be the same as what I call your father. Light: That’s okay. Call me whatever you want. L: Then what about Kira? (silence) L: It's a joke.

-- Episode 4

one could say that L just has a terrible sense of humor--and, of course, having a poor grasp of humor is common with autistic individuals--but the fact that he says nearly the same thing as a defense twice makes me feel as though he has it rehearsed as a defense when people react poorly to things he’s said, which happens often.

mirroring and echolalia

echolalia was briefly covered in the previous example, but for those unaware, via wikipedia (4):

Echolalia is the unsolicited repetition of vocalizations made by another person (when repeated by the same person, it is called palilalia). In its profound form it is automatic and effortless.

mirroring, on the other hand, is explained as such, also via wikipedia (5):

Mirroring is the behavior in which one person unconsciously imitates the gesture, speech pattern, or attitude of another. Mirroring often occurs in social situations, particularly in the company of close friends or family. The concept often affects other individuals' notions about the individual that is exhibiting mirroring behaviors, which can lead to the individual building rapport with others.

both of these are very common in autism, and they’re exemplified while L’s character is established watching his favorite TV show, Owarai Paradise. On one occasion, he’s watching the show and this dialogue happens:

Hiroshi: Despite never telling her how I felt, I still got dumped. I am Hiroshi. Watari: Who was this one again? L: He is Hiroshi. Hiroshi: I am Hiroshi. I am Hiroshi.

-- Episode 2

it’s important to note that in Japanese, “He is Hiroshi” and “I am Hiroshi” are said, at least in this instance, exactly the same, so L is echoing precisely what he’s heard.

On another occasion, L is again watching the show with a glass of wine (seemingly acquired simply to imitate the characters onscreen, as he never drinks it) and when the characters onscreen toast their glasses, L does the same, mirroring them.

CONCLUSION

I linked a post at the very beginning of this analysis talking about how characters are unintentionally autistic coded, and it’s important to understand how this unintentional coding is different from a headcanon--i didn’t make up these traits. they aren’t something that only exist in my head that i ascribe to L for fun.

i made this analysis both because i wanted to share L’s autistic coding in one cohesive place, because plenty of people have made lists before, but none that i could find that included so many examples with images and explanations--and i also made it because of the old ryuzaki persona “theory.”

for those unaware, the ryuzaki persona headcanon suggests that L faked all of these traits in order to make people uncomfortable, to put them off-guard and better mask his identity. i’ve seen posts about people claiming that nobody could actually behave in these ways, that L would surely be unhappy and uncomfortable sitting like that, or eating like that, or engaging in any of these behaviors. I’ve seen some people outright say that L isn’t autistic, but his persona is--that is, he’s pretending to be autistic.

i named this essay “occam’s razor” because, to me, L being autistic is the simplest answer to account for all of these traits. claiming that an autistic coded character is faking it is ableist and it just doesn’t make sense with anything else we know about his character.

but if you want to know more about that, i recommend reading eyecicles’ first!L tag. it’s debunked it in more ways than i ever could.

anyways, in conclusion

#death note #death note drama #death note analysis #L lawliet

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drawlfoy · 4 years ago

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Wonders of Ohio P.8

masterlist (read parts 1-7 here!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no ma’am this was spawned in the pits of my hell brain

summary: y/n’s family takes on a particularly mysterious exchange student, draco malfoy. fyi: this is NOT a non magic AU--draco is still a wizard

warnings: swearing, college admissions (ew), vague mentions of a car accident

a/n: hey...ahahahaha yeah so when i disappeared from the writing scene i was actually sitting on this chapter because i wanted to finish the entire scene up until draco came back home, but i haven’t quite figured out how everything is going to work in the middle of this story bc we’re getting into the thick of it. things are only going to get more and more wild and while i have the ending already written (oopsies), there’s still a lot to cover between december and august. i promise you it’ll be worth it tho--thanks so much for waiting!

word count: 2.5k

no music recs because i wrote this in november and i don’t remember ANYTHING!

tags tags tags (message me if you’d like to be tagged!) @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan

Y/N froze as she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

In any other situation, she would have fibbed, the lies rolling off her tongue and falling into a neat pile.

But this wasn’t just any situation.

“Drac--uh, Draco,” she began, rather lamely. She wondered if he could see what she had been doing and then immediately stopped that train of thought--of course he could, she was sitting there crouched with his letters all over the floor next to her.

Y/N had never seen him look so terrible--his eyes were saucers and his fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“What’s up?” she asked. Maybe I got really lucky and he hasn’t noticed yet.

His mouth opened and closed a few times as he seemed to agonize over what to say.

“Give me those letters back,” he finally said. “And come into my room. We need to talk.”

She scrambled to get everything back into the satchel--honestly, how had all those fit into such a tiny bag?--and tossed it into his hand. He refused to make eye contact and instead yanked her into his room, shutting the door before closing the blinds.

“Uh...what’s going o--”

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped. “You know what you read.”

She withered under his gaze, all of a sudden trained on her with a heat that could melt through iron.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he said tying up the satchel and tossing it into a drawer. “You’re going to sit right there and tell me everything that you know. And no lying. I can always tell.”

Something about the weight of his words told her that the last part wasn’t hyperbole. “O--okay. Um, I know that you’re kind of strange, and I know that your family definitely isn’t into politics because unless you’ve changed your name I haven’t been able to find shit on your family...I know that you’re here for some kind of punishment, or at least that’s what the letter said, and that wherever you’re from believes in, uh, magic, or something…”

Y/N had never been so scared of Draco as she was right then. He stood looming over her, his eyes calculating and cold. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Uh--how did you--”

“Is there anything else you want to know? Ask now or forever hold your peace. I promise I’ll take care of this.”

Y/N blinked. “What? What do you mean take care…”

“Don’t...just don’t ask that right now.” Draco’s demeanor made a switch from intimidating to exhausted. His previous towering presence looked more mournful than anything.

“Ok,” said Y/N, willing to take something else over nothing. “So...why are you here? Where are you actually from? What happened to your dad?”

Draco drew in a few slow breaths. “My family’s name is Malfoy. I never lied to you about that. We’re from England, like you think. But we’re not really from the same world as you.”

He looked at her, gauging her reaction. When nothing came, he continued. “I’m...magic, as you would probably say. Like, wizards and witches and shit. Like the stuff all of you here celebrate for Halloween. Just more real.”

“You’re off your rocker is what you are,” said Y/N. “Magic isn’t real.”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Draco replied, his tone wearing down. “Not to you. It’s very real to me.”

“Were you in a cult or something because that’s absolute batshit cra--”

“Oh my fucking God can you just listen,” he said in one long-winded breath. “Thank you. Not that it matters that much if you actually believe me and I’m not allowed to show you any magic--they almost sent me back home for spelling my hair neat that one time in the car with you--but you should believe. Did you really think you were just sick after Homecoming? Like, did you think that was the common cold or something?”

“Well…” Y/N trailed off as realization dawned on her.

“I don’t know how you got into that store, but it was magic. Whatever object you picked up did something to you. You would’ve died from muggle care--the only possible treatment was extracting whatever magic had somehow gotten inside you.”

“So you were the person in my dream.”

“Yes. Anyways. So back in England, my family got wrapped up in some...dark business with a very evil wizard. I had to do some things that I’d rather not get into, and those things were serious offenses in the eyes of the Ministry--which is like your government. I was sent here as a punishment instead of something more severe.”

Y/N snorted. “Assuming all of this is true, why did you get sent to America? Normally exchange students see trips to the US as a kind of vacation...but I do understand the part of Ohio being used as a punishment.”

His face was void of amusement.

“I wasn’t sent here because Ohio is boring,” he said. “I was sent here to be forced to assimilate into muggle society--”

“Muggle?”

“People who aren’t magic. Anyways, that was the punishment. Having to live with and associate with muggles, far enough away from home that I faced no threat of vigilantism and couldn’t escape.”

“Oh.” Y/N deflated into her seat as it all began to hit her. So that was why Draco was so disgusted with her. There was a reason why some gut feeling told her that he would never see her like....that.

“Anyways, for the less exciting part.” Draco turned to rifle around the jewelry box they’d kept in the guest room. “It’s crucial to the safety of my people that you don’t know about us. Muggles get scared, and sometimes they hurt us. They nearly wiped us out a few generations ago.”

He turned around, wielding a small wooden cube that glimmered in the light. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I have to do this. If they know you know, they’ll send me away.”

“Do...what?” She stared up at him as he approached, holding the square out in his palms. “Draco, what’s going--”

“I told you I’d take care of it,” he said, his tone pleading. “I’m going to make you forget.”

Y/N eyes flickered open. It was chilly in her room--one look confirmed the fact that her window was wide open--but she had a thick blanket pulled over her. As she shed the last pulses of drowsiness, one thought bubbled to the surface:

That fucker.

She sat up, threw the blankets off her bed, and started towards the guest room.

“Hey,” she said, yanking the door open and standing in front of a very surprised Draco. “Nice try. Are we actually gonna talk this through, or are you gonna put me to sleep again?”

“Wha-”

“I remember everything, dipshit. Especially the part where you didn’t let me say my piece before you knocked me out.”

“I-”

“Try and steal my memories again and it’s on sight, Draco.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath and finally slumped down onto his bed. “You were saying?”

“How did you...er...you’re not supposed to remember me,” he said. “Do you have any magic blood in your family? Do you know?”

“Look around. If we had magic blood we wouldn’t be living in Ohio.”

“I’m not joking around.” He joined her and laid back. Y/N tried to not make a mental note of how a few strands of his hair brushed up against her cheek for a second. He smelled of peppermint and pine. “There’s no reason why that shouldn’t have worked. You definitely aren’t magic--I can feel it, no offense--and that Obliviation cube was explicitly created to work on muggles and wipe specific memories of magic.”

“I guess I’m just better.”

“Not funny. I’m definitely going to get sent to some random village in...I don’t know, Siberia for this. And your whole family will be obliviated. The whole point of me telling you was so I could get you to understand why I had to wipe your memory.”

“That’s horribly disrespectful, you know. Not even asking for my consent before doing such a thing? Try again.”

“I will,” he said, sitting up and grabbing the cube again.

Y/N sprung up and scooted away. “Wait! Wait! That was a joke! Can’t we just talk this through? I’m a really good liar.”

“Lying doesn’t matter in front of the Ministry. They have their ways.”

“And what’s the Ministry going to do?” she asked. “Because, right now, it looks like I know about your secret and they’re not knocking down my door yet. Are they seriously going to break into my own home and perform some kind of lie detector test on me out of the blue? Are they really gonna cause a scene like that? No? I didn’t think so.”

Draco looked even paler than usual as he examined her from the other side of the bed, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “I hope you’re grasping the severity of this. This isn't a fun little joke. This is the difference between my community living or dying.”

“I get that. But if I say I’m not going to tell anyone, then how is your community at risk?”

“You can’t promise me that.”

“Draco.” Her tone was strong enough to make him snap his head up and meet her eyes. “You saved my life. I’ve lived with you for almost 3 months. Trust me when I say I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Swear on my life.”

The silence was tangible between the two as he stood there staring.

“You have to trust me,” said Y/N. “Please.”

Draco met her eyes again, a type of helplessness written so deeply into the etches of his face that he nearly looked like a different person than the proud, posh British boy that was usually him. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She let out a sigh of relief as he put the cube back into the drawer.

“Don’t get too comfortable, though,” he told her. “Once I figure out how to fix this, I won’t need to trust you anymore.”

“You’ve been trusting me with your life since the moment you got into a car with me for the first time. Do you have any idea how many teenagers crash on the freeway? I don’t get why this is so different.”

He scowled. “I think it’s very obviously different.”

“I can pull up the stats for you real quick if you want. Just so you can grasp the severity of the situation that you’re minimizing right now.”

“Damn it, Y/N, you don’t understand!” Draco slammed his hands on the dresser, the wood making a loud smack sound as it connected with his palms. She jumped. “All my life I’ve been...You just don’t understand.”

“You have no other option, Draco,” said Y/N.

“I...I know.”

The next few weeks were profoundly uncomfortable. If it wasn’t just for the fact that there had been a burglar turned home invader turned...whatever on the loose, Y/N was now dealing with the fact that her world as she knew it was turning upside down.

Draco was magic. He was different, and while this at first had been difficult for Y/N to believe, she began to realize just how much sense it made. The way the most ordinary of daily objects confused him...his discomfort with using the internet...his distaste for all of the people he met…either he was raised under a legitimate rock or he was telling the truth....

And perhaps the most conclusive revelation regarded his stance on his feelings towards her. After that night at Sylvia’s, Y/N had begun to think that there might be something there, or at least that something there might’ve been possible.

Now she knew that it wasn’t. And she had to be okay with that.

Draco was for the most part normal apart from the fact that his wariness around her was obvious. She could feel him keeping a close eye on her in the halls when she spoke with her friends. Sometimes he’d even level a look in her direction, a clear demand written all over his face: Not a word. You promised.

Evening teas stopped entirely. Draco ate in his room for breakfast and seldom said anything on the rides to and from school, and, to be entirely honest, it helped. She could feel her hopeless crush become weaker as the month of November wore on. Her giddy excitement towards a possible love interest was directed to the nervous dwellings on her UChicago application.

Results were out on December 3rd, and she was absolutely buzzing. Fuck weird blond boys that came into her life and told her of an entire mystical and magical world out there--the gothic, hallowed architecture of UChicago was waiting for her.

“Honey, it’s almost 5!”

“I know.”

Y/N sat, cross legged on her bed, as she looked at the email she’d received moments ago from UChicago. In 3 minutes, the portal would open up. And her fate would be decided.

“Don’t open it yet, your father and I are coming!” Mrs. Y/L/N yelled from the kitchen.

She smiled--for once, her father had managed to take a night off of work to be there for her. The only person missing in their home was Draco, and she supposed that he didn’t count anymore. At least not in the classic way.

5:00pm.

“Hold on, hold on.” Her father’s voice carried down the hall, paired with the sound of feet thumping up the stairs.

Her parents appeared in the doorway, rushing to her and peeking over her shoulder.

“Are you ready to open it?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked, placing her hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Uh...yes.” Her stomach flipped as she pressed her mouse over the blue hyperlink, directing the screen to show a login page. She wasn’t quite sure what it would look like--perhaps her decision would be right there when she logged in--but despite her racing thoughts, she input her portal information, pressed enter, and squeezed her eyes shut.

Dead silence.

“Honey.”

Her mother’s voice was strife with...some kind of emotion, whatever it was. Y/N dared to pry her eyelids open just a pinch, giving her just enough vision to read out the clear “CONGRATULATIONS” spanning the entirety of her page.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!”

The euphoria that followed was indescribable. Her father’s arms, encircling her shoulders in a way he hadn’t done since she was a child, her mother’s professions of how proud she was...incredible.

The only thing sullying it was a Draco shaped figure looming in the doorway once the hysteria died down.

“What happened?”

“I got into UChicago!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

He simply stared at her, his gaze cool and uninterested. Y/N felt all the joy drain from her face. “I hate to butt in, but I have some news too. I’ll be traveling back home for the holidays.”

“Oh.” Irritation was written clear as day across Mrs. Y/L/N’s face. “When will you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

final a/n: heyyyyyy everyone let me know what you thought. what do you guys think will happen next chapter? how do you think this is going to end overall? ik this is a draco x reader but do you guys think that draco still has a ways to go before he can have feelings for y/n? or does he already have them? im inch rested please lmk your thoughts

also my endless apologies to ohioans i did not mean to add the slander in there ik that plenty of you are lovely people <3 cancel me if you wish

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco #draco malfoy #dracotok #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco x you #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #tom felton

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dreamylyfe-x · 4 years ago

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Reactions: 11x06: Do Not Go Gently... (etc)

You know, I was going to do one of these for 11x05 and then I got so mad about the “Pollack” thing that I just couldn’t.

Shameless is such a challenging show in so many ways... because there is a lot of cringe a lot of the time and I am a delicate flower about those things. But... I do love it and so much of its strengths at this point are the performers and just the length of time we have been with these characters. And sometimes you really see that, and sometimes you frustratingly don’t, but this episode was much more the former than the latter.

I’m going talk about Carl right off the jump when I thought I was going to avoid talking about it at all because... not a topic I enjoy. If you don’t enjoy, I will keep it all in this bullet so it’s really skipable. I will see where I eventually land on it, because I am wary -- lots of bad consent on this show over the year and very little longterm exploration and all. But. I have seen a lot of sexual assault storylines over the years. I can’t readily remember if I’ve ever seen someone on a TV show have that moment where they feels weird, tell someone why, and get someone emphatically tell them that they’re right to feel weird, because they’ve been violated. That is something that is so common in life. I have unfortunately had more than one conversation with someone that took exactly that trajectory. There is so often this period of shock and uncertainty and people will then use that against people to demonstrate how they couldn’t POSSIBLY have been hurt. If they were going to tell a story about a sexual assault, I’m glad they did this -- something that they set up like “this is grey!” and then have Debbie say “It’s not grey. It’s a crime.” Weird to them basically SMASHCUT to a totally new topic but I will swing back around to that.

I like Debbie best with Sandy so this was a rough one for me with her.

Frank: WTF, why do I care about Frank’s story? They’ve set this up all season so it’s not a surprise, but... I dunno. Frank is awful. But he’s also an addict. And the thing I will always have empathy for on the topic of addiction is the way it can steal your life. What’s happening to Frank is scary and a direct result of an addiction which we have pretty much never seen him try to get out from under in any meaningful way. He has lost his life to it -- his potential, his relationships, his children -- and now he’s losing his mind. Just. Fuck.

Speaking of: Lip. WTF are you doing? I feel like, by the end of the episode, they’d made it clear that Lip is acting out. That he’s angry and frustrated and it’s making him do stupid and destructive things that aren’t actually going to add up to ANYTHING good for him. Which... Kinda classic of Lip. But those moments where Mickey is looking at him and is the voice of reason ... I mean, I love that. But Lip. That’s not a great look for you.

Once again, V’s story just sorta weird? Like active shooter drills being a replacement for gym class... Um. Wait. What is this story about, exactly? Gun violence or school funding? Or both? What are we doing?

Liam: Stop going to Carl with your problems. Christian: I love what you’re doing. Because boy do I feel Liam’s terror. And I’ll come back to that, too.

Gallavich! It was a Gallavich story where the focus was on MICKEY. Just... Wow. I literally didn’t think that was going to be a thing this year. We love to see it.

Mickey helping Lip rob Born Free... There are a lot of blanks in all of that, but he seemed quite integral to the operation, Ian clearly knew it was going down and Mickey seems to have primarily seen it as a way to do a thing for family. I love the Lip and Mickey relationship -- I love the history of it. I love that they’ve known each other since grade school and are completely different kinds of alphas. Lip has always had being the smartest in his back pocket, but Mickey often leaves him speechless by just being the most fearless. I love how there’s always been a bit of begrudging respect (and on Lip’s side, maybe a bit of sympathy) there and I love that the show let us have a moment where Mickey is going out to help Lip do crime and then coming back to the house with donuts for everybody. Just. Beyond my wildest dreams for season 11.

Speaking of “beyond my wildest dreams” -- that there would be some decent level of complexity with Mickey and Terry. I think a lot of that complexity was left up to Noel to convey -- but that’s a choice they’re making and I think it’s the right one. I loved Ian observing that this was the most Mickey ever talked about Terry, because that seems true. It’s a little nod, too, to when Ian desperately WANTED Mickey to talk about Terry and the fact that Ian has, for years, accepted that Mickey won’t. It’s in character for Mickey not to want to SAY a lot about his dad, and it’s also just a true fact that the writers can give Noel a non-verbal moment (or five) and get us as the audience what we need to understand about where Mickey is at. And that’s history, too. Because we have watched Noel let the audience see Mickey’s heart through nothing but his facial expression for 10 of 11 seasons.

One of those Milkoviches looks a lot like Jody, so that was weird.

So one of my less popular Shameless opinions is that it makes sense that Mickey is involved with Terry in season 10. For many reasons I won’t get into here, but one of them is just that... people who have been abused by their parents do tend to have some kind of relationship with those parents. Most of that is just the fact that Terry -- while being absolutely horrific -- is still Mickey’s father. And Mickey clearly struggles to completely shrug that off. He struggles with it in seasons 3 and 4, and he struggles with it now. He understands that he has every right. But. Mickey isn’t Terry. And that’s going to make it harder for Mickey to completely shut that door. Since Mickey actually DOES have empathy.

Ok -- everyone has and will say what I’m about to say, which is just: The scene on the couch was amazing. Being take care of is such a loaded issue for Ian. It was loaded enough that it broke them up in season 10. Ian might talk about being paralyzed, but he’s saying that knowing that he will have to rely on Mickey to take care of him sometimes. He knows Mickey knows that and he knows Mickey signed up for it. But it’s hard for him. I think Ian knows the answer to the question -- has to -- but he asks it to ground Mickey in the idea that they both have each other. Mickey isn’t going to end up like Terry. He isn’t going to be alone in his chair with every single member of his family satisfied to leave him on the curb in a hospital gown.

To take a step back, this is also why I love the prior scene on the sidewalk, because that is a lot of how Ian takes care of Mickey. I reblogged Gallavictorious’s post yesterday that talked about an accusation that the fandom promotes the idea Mickey is supposed to solve Ian’s problems. This is the show helping her rebuttal, because my gut response to that idea was “where is Mickey now if Ian hadn’t shown up and loved him the way he did?” -- and that moment on the sidewalk is an example of how that still impacts Mickey. That’s what Mickey sticks around for. To have someone standing right in front of him when he wants to do something that will blow his life up just saying “Don’t.” Like how powerful is it for Mickey to have someone care like that? Mickey doesn’t want to talk. That’s not how he wants to receive love from Ian. But I think it’s incredibly valuable and important that Mickey has someone telling him he doesn’t need to give up his life to punish his father. That Terry isn’t worth it and that Mickey’s life IS.

Back on the couch scene tip: How exhausted must Mickey BE at this point? He’s up all night helping Lip, then he’s driving with Ian all day. Just what a long 24 hours for this guy.

I love that Ian doesn’t chase Mickey when he gets up. That he follows, but he doesn’t seem alarmed. He seems to understand they are past the gun-to-the-forehead part of this experience.

I also love that Ian helps him. I’ve seen several people note that this is Ian observing Mickey’s boundaries and it is. But it’s also Ian pointing out that Mickey isn’t in this alone.

It WAS big of Mickey, Ian. I fully agree. Far beyond the call.

I think Ian’s been wanting to tell Mickey he’s better than that all day. But this was the moment where Mickey was most going to be able to hear it. 💕

Selling the house: Well, we are really getting to the “last season of Shameless” stuff. I get where Lip is coming from, when he looks at his options. I get Debbie’s reaction. I also understand, given Ian’s day, while he is IMMEDIATELY all in. I only have one question: WHAT ABOUT LIAM???? I’m already mad at all of you for not giving that kid a hug.

But. I mean, overall? Literally wanted to see that much Terry/Mickey stuff for years. I never thought it would get here, so I’m happy.

But oh my God. We’re halfway done. 😳

#of course I will always take more #but this was good #Save Liam #Shameless season 11 #Shameless 11x06

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