#so almost definitely there is Someone Else about now

[crazy-pages]

Also, bit of a tangent, but this is why criticism in fanfiction comments is just about useless. Even if it's well-intentioned, even if it's insightful, even if it would make the story better at what it's trying to do, even if the author might want criticism for the purpose of edits or future work!

Establishing that you are a trustworthy source of advice who understands the thrust of a story just takes more than you can do in a single fanfic comment. You need to establish a relationship with the writer where they know who *you* are, what your background is, and how you understand their work, before your criticism is trustworthy. (Some criticism is self-evidently correct when presented ... but you can assume that a writer is either capable of seeing such obvious issues in their own work and is working on it, or else isn't focused on that right now).

And here's the thing. Good critics know this. Good critics are people who are familiar with the dynamics of giving useful criticism, including the need for a two-way relationship of understanding to make the criticism trustworthy. So by definition, anyone leaving a critical one-off comment on a fanfic isn't a trustworthy critic. The criticism might incidentally be correct ... but if it's really not self-evidentially correct criticism, the author won't be able to be sure of that. Meaning that someone leaving a critical comment is, almost by definition, not a trustworthy critic.

(But wait, you might say, this would imply there's no mechanism for a stranger to reliably leave useful criticism in a one-off comment! And yes. Yes that's the point. If you leave insightful praise and thoughtful engagement with the work and end up in a conversation with the author, to the point where they want to discuss the work with you in a more detailed way elsewhere, then you might be in a position to deliver trusted criticism if they want it. Because there's just no way to do this right without putting in enough work for someone to trust your advice. That's just how criticism be.)

i just heard the phrase “if you wouldn’t trust their advice, don’t trust their criticism” for the first time and i don’t think i’ve ever needed to hear anything more

[mythicmanuscripts]

I’m thinking about the sub!Aegon that thrives on skin contact and nuzzles into the reader’s chest. Going along with his mommy kink, do you think this would also have him wanting to suck on reader’s breasts as a way to comfort himself when he’s had a bad day?

I know you don’t write pregnancy stuff and I hope I’m not violating your limits on what you don’t write for! I don’t want to make you uncomfortable

Aw I love this! Also thank you for taking note of the fact that I don't write pregnancy related content. I'm perfectly happy to write this type of thing, I think it would stray into an area where I'd be uncomfortable if it involved lactation. This is perfect though!

This answer is mostly just soft and sweet but since there's literal titty sucking and implied sexual conduct I'll hide it behind a cute. Enjoy!

Right so firstly, I have said this before and I will undoubtedly say this again but, Aegon has an oral fixation. An absolutely massive oral fixation. He's always wanting something in his mouth, always!! He'll often chew on his shirt cuff or his necklace or quill. The only time he'll drink water without a single complaint is when there's a straw in the cup and then he'll very happily sip it slowly and even once it's finished he'll just keep the straw in his mouth, sucking a little and chewing on it.

He tries to hide this at first from you, because it's definitely something others have noticed and teased him for. His mother has told him multiple times that he needs to grow out of it but he can't help it!!! He often doesn't even realise he's doing it, and if he tries to stop then he'll get all antsy and wriggly, bouncing his leg or tapping his knee or twirling his hair, anything to try and get the same sort of fidgeting calmness but nothing else is as good.

But despite how hard it is to stop, he really really tries to once he meets and bonds with you. He's never had someone he wanted so badly to please before and he'd actually just start sobbing if he did something that made you think he was embarrassing.

Needless to say, this attempt at keeping this from you fails almost immediately. He already struggles to control the urges if he's trying his hardest to concentrate on not doing it, so to try and control when he's with you and you start to look after him and his little mind turns off? Absolutely no chance.

How is he supposed to keep any train of thought for longer than two seconds when you're holding his hand and calling him pretty? That battle was lost before it even began.

But he does try. In the beginning it was easier because he didnt know you as well so he wasnt as comfortable. He was able to keep himself more or less contained because he didnt see too much of you and had even less time alone with you. That arrangement can't last forever of course, and before long you two get closer and closer and then the real struggles starts. His main strategy to try and save himself is just not allowing himself anywhere anything that he could chew on. Maybe what breaks it is when he's tired?

A few months into the relationship he finds himself unable to fall asleep. Aegon always struggles to sleep if he thinks he's done something wrong. If someone yells at him or calls him a failure or tells him he didnt do something right then he'll often be awake the whole evening, unable to calm down or get over it.

Except now he's never alone in his bed anymore, and so he can't just curl up in a little ball and chew on the cuff of his sleep shirt. Well, that's what he tells himself. He tells himself that he won't do it with you there, but then you see how unsettled he seems and you let him curl up against your chest and you kiss his head and well.... the cuff is in his mouth before he even realises.

You spot it of course, but you don't say anything because seemed to have finally calmed down. You ask him about it the next morning and he blushes so red he looks sunburnt, and then immediately starts promising he'll try his best not to do it anymore. It breaks your heart to see how guilty and ashamed he seems over something that clearly brought him some level of comfort. You promise you won't judge him or it and say you don't mind at all. Even though you say this, he still tries to stop, though all future attempts are absolutely useless.

The first time he uses any part of your body for it is after you've dommed him and cleaned him up. You get him into bed, wrapping as many blankets around him as possible and then you cup his cheek, gently tilting his head upwards so he can see you when you say you're just running to the kitchens to get him a snack and promise you'll be back in less than 10 minutes.

Only, Aegon doesn't even hear the end of the sentence because you're gently stroking his cheek with your thumb and he's so sleepy and happy and utterly incapable of any thoughts at all, nevermind any rational thoughts. So he turns his head slightly and takes your thumb into his mouth, gently sucking on it. You're stunned, not only from the action but also how happy he seems? He was sitting up on the bed but now he's basically leaning over, trusting you to hold most of his weight. When you stroke his hair with your other hand he hums around your thumb and clumsily tries to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

Needless to say, you never end up leaving to get the snacks because you get pulled into bed and have a lap full of happy, clingy, fucked out Aegon for the rest of the night. It gets more and more common from there, and you even start to notice the signs in his behaviour that means he'll be asking for that later.

I think using your breasts for this would first come about after sex one night. Sometimes the only way to settle Aegon is so push him as close as possible to limit, to wring out every orgasm you again until the poor thing can barley even speak (it basically resets him). After things like that you always stay in bed for a while. You don't get out of bed to clean up and fetch things and do all those other aftercare chores until much later because aegon needs immediate cuddles or else he'll spiral. You've just taken him apart completely so you can't just leave him like that.

That's how you end up laying in bed naked with a very tired Aegon who has been reduced to whines and huffs. You pull him against your chest and then he actually starts paying at your chest? You're so confused and you pull away just enough to look at him. Of course this is absolutely no help because he just whines and continues what he's doing.

You eventually realise what he wants and then you lay down on your back and pull him closer, essentially just scooping him up and letting him curl around you. He instantly goes for your breast, taking your nipple in to his mouth. You worry he might be too harsh but actually he's so so soft? He barely even sucks, mostly just keeps it in his mouth and nuzzlings into you. He falls asleep within 10 minutes.

From there he does it often, first only as aftercare and then after that whenever he needs it.

In conclusion, that little fucker is lucky he's cute.

[yeet-the-chair]

The Ghost Next Door

While leaving your room to do laundry, an unfamiliar presence walks out of your neighbors apartment. While you don't recognize him, he definitely recognizes you.

Word count: 1337

Laundry day. It definitely wasn’t your favorite. Having to walk to the laundry room to hopefully find an open machine was such a pain in the ass. But usually, if the people in your apartment complex see a blind girl coming with her arms full, they’ll turn around and give you the open washing machine. Well, you aren’t actually blind. Due to your mutation, you’re able to see the aura that surrounds people. Their emotions and who they are as a person. Along with that, the rest of the world has a blue, hazy outline to it, allowing you to navigate without difficulty. 

As you exit your apartment, you hear the door next to yours open as a figure walks out. You expect to see your neighbor, Wade Wilson, but the abhorrent strange aura that surrounds him isn’t what greets you. An intimidating aura walks out of the door, one filled with so much sadness, anger, and hatred. But deep down, you saw good. He has a good heart in him, one that wants to do good. 

You noticed, however, that the aura around him had started to change. Instead of the blues and reds you saw before, hues of purples and orange appeared. You could feel him looking at you. He… recognized you? He was so confused, and now you were too. You never forgot someone, even in passing. He probably just thought you were someone else, so you decided to ignore it. Though it continued to nag at you, there was nothing you could do about it, other than go up to him and say ‘hey I know I’m blind but you look like you recognize me.’ 

Nope, no way. You were just gonna leave it as it is, even if you felt strangely drawn towards him. 

…

Logan couldn’t believe his eyes. The minute he walked out of the door and looked at you, it was like seeing a ghost. The last time he saw you was when you laid dead in his arms on the lawn of the mansion. But now, you stand in front of him, or at least a version of you, looking the exact same. There was something different about you, though. You wore red tinted glasses, and looking closer, Logan could see a scar that ran from the outer corner of your left eye, over the bridge of your nose and to your other eye. 

“Y/n?” he mumbled out. 

It was clear you hadn’t heard him, as you continued walking in the opposite direction. He couldn’t let you go again. He followed after you, speeding up as you entered the elevator, but it closes right as he reaches out. Logan’s breathing gets heavier. He finally gets to see you again, he will not let that chance go. ‘Where could she be?’

It clicks for him. You were holding a laundry basket. He books it to the stairs and races to the laundry room

… 

Okay.

There is no way this mysterious man, who just tried to get into your elevator, doesn’t know you. You felt his emotions; recognition, relief, then fear as you disappeared behind the doors. He’s trying to find you, but why? 

You began to panic slightly. Sure, you had a mutation, but you had never used it to fight before, never really even thought of it. You sensed the danger before you could even come close to it and found a different path. But now? There is no other path to take. You’re facing it head on whether you want to or not. 

As you exit the elevator, you hear the pounding footsteps coming down the stairs, while also feeling the desperation coming from them in waves. They’re almost enough to knock you down but you hold your ground. You almost make it to the laundry room when the stairs exit door slams open a few feet away from you and the man from earlier walks over and reaches to grab your shoulder. Before he can, you turn and grab his wrist, glaring at him the best you could.

“Look,” you began. “I don’t know who you are or how you know me, but let me make one thing clear. I may be blind but I am not completely helpless. I will make you hurt in ways you cannot comprehend. Do you understand?”

Sure, you couldn’t fight, but you could manipulate his emotions to be so painful he feels like he can barely move. 

Your threat seems to have fallen on deaf ears as he continues to look at you with so much longing. You can see he is full of love, regret, and despair just by looking at you. You hear him whisper your name, reaching out his other hand to wrap around your waist and hug you. Before he can though you slip out of his hold, releasing his wrist from your grip. 

“Don’t touch me.” Hurt. A new emotion made its way into the man's aura, along with anxiety wrapping all other emotions in a rope of grey and blue. You could feel the creep of anxiety begin to crawl up your back, but you pushed it away and pulled out confidence and defiance to take its place. 

Standing up straighter, you decided that laundry could wait until later and backed out of the room until you made it out of the door. Once you did, you sped over to the elevator and waited for it to open. The man made no move to follow you, seeming almost paralyzed in shock by what you said. You could feel his anxiety continue to wrap around him, tightening around his other emotions in a knot. 

A part of you felt bad. You could feel his emotions as if they were your own, and it hurt. You were mostly numb to feelings others emotions as you dealt with them every day, but every now and them one person's emotions were so strong that you couldn’t completely block them out. It would be so easy to manipulate his emotions, to comfort him and make him less miserable.

But another part of you was afraid. You had no idea who this man was, yet it seemed like he knew you. He knew your name. Was he a stalker? No, he couldn’t be. You would have sensed him, especially with an aura like that. Did you know him when you were younger? Before you were blinded and developed your mutation? It was possible, though he seemed more starstruck than you would expect an old friend to be. 

You continued to contemplate as you began to clean your apartment. You tried to focus on your music, on what the lyrics said and the emotion you could feel from them, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him. There was a strange pull to him you could not explain. ‘He terrified me earlier, but what if I really do know him?’

… 

“Don’t touch me.”

Those words replayed over and over again in Logan’s mind as he sat in Wade’s apartment. He scared you. You were afraid of him. That isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He should be making you laugh, making you smile. He didn’t want to be the cause of your fear. 

But he had to keep reminding himself that this is a different universe. While you looked like the you he knew in his world, the you here was so different. Different backstories, different lives, maybe even a different mutation? You were blind in this world, so did that affect the mutation that you got?

He wanted to learn more about you, but that would have to wait a few days. He needed to figure out how to apologize for his prior behavior and figure out how to explain his actions. Relationships of any kind are built off trust, and while he couldn't tell you the whole truth immediately, he did have to make himself as trustworthy as possible so he could tell you one day.  

first time writing lol but ive had this idea for so long that i needed to get it out

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART SIX

paige x azzi

word count: 4.7k

A/N: This is just a cute little chapter to show how much their dynamic has grown/changed. There will be a few time jumps after this because we’ll never get anywhere otherwise 😭. I love all the live reactions and comments I’ve been getting, they’re actually hilarious.

—————————————————————————

After spending the night in Paige’s room, the two of them got impossibly closer. When they woke up the next morning, Paige invited Azzi to tag along to her physical therapy session. Azzi of course agreed, and from that moment on, they spent every waking hour together for the rest of the short winter break. Whether it was in rehab, watching movies in Paige’s room, or going out for a sweet treat in the middle of the night at Azzi’s request, they became inseparable.

When they returned to UConn after Christmas, it was the exact same. It was rare to see one without the other. Both of them were sidelined with injuries, which only gave them more excuses to stay close. During games, they sat on the bench together, Paige talking Azzi’s ear off about strategy, stats, and whatever random thoughts crossed her mind. Azzi didn’t mind; she found Paige’s rambling endearing, even when it meant missing part of the game on the court.

Off the bench, they poured themselves into helping the team however they could. They watched hours of film together, analyzing plays and finding ways to improve their teammates’ performance with so many of them sidelined with injuries. Huddled around a laptop in the locker room or sprawled out on the floor of Paige’s dorm, their heads often ended up leaning close enough that their shoulders brushed. Neither pulled away.

Neither of them brought up the new dynamic between them. It was like there was a silent agreement to ignore the feelings simmering just beneath the surface. They told themselves it was easier this way, to focus on recovery and basketball. But the excuses only went so far.

Their stolen glances during film sessions lasted a second too long. The casual touches—Paige nudging Azzi’s knee when she made a good point, or Azzi grabbing Paige’s forearm to drag her somewhere or emphasize her own thoughts—left feelings between both of them. Paige’s heart raced every time Azzi’s hand lingered on hers, while Azzi found herself melting into a puddle by the way Paige’s voice softened when they were alone. A softness she only seemed to have for Azzi.

Still, they stayed in the safe lane of ‘friendship’ burying their feelings beneath layers of banter and shared routines. To them that seemed to work but to anyone else looking at their dynamic it definitely seemed like they were in a relationship. The two of them basically teased and flirted with one another nonstop.

January 2022

Today was no different. They were currently on the road, heading back to Connecticut after taking a quick trip to see Paige’s surgeon for her check-up. The car was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the faint sound of music playing from the speakers. Paige was driving, her hands relaxed on the wheel, and Azzi was trying her best to focus on anything but her.

It wasn’t easy. Azzi wasn’t used to seeing Paige behind the wheel—usually, she was the passenger, sprawled out and carefree. But now that Paige could drive she insisted on doing it every time and Azzi could never stop glancing over at her. The way Paige’s jawline looked when she would clinch it at someone doing something stupid in front of her, the subtle furrow of her brow as she concentrated on the road, or, worst of all, the way her long fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles flexing slightly.

Azzi swallowed hard, her thoughts wandering somewhere they absolutely shouldn’t be. She blinked, forcing herself to look straight ahead, but her gaze betrayed her almost immediately, drifting back to the blonde.

Paige caught her. She glanced over, catching Azzi’s lingering stare, and a slow smirk spread across her face. “What?” Paige asked, her voice laced with amusement.

Azzi groaned at being caught, throwing her head back against the seat. “Stop driving like that.”

Paige laughed, the sound warm and teasing as she gave her a quick side glance. “Like what, Azzi?”

Azzi waved her arms in Paige’s direction, clearly flustered. “Like that! You know what you’re doing.”

Paige grinned wider, unable to hide how much she was enjoying this. “I’m literally just driving. You’re the one making it weird.”

Azzi let out a frustrated noise, crossing her arms and slouching slightly in her seat. “No, you’re doing something. I don’t know what, but it’s distracting.”

Paige chuckled, shifting her grip on the wheel—whether to mess with Azzi or just to adjust, Azzi couldn’t tell, but it didn’t help. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but this is how I always drive. Guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

Azzi shot her a glare but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

Paige glanced over briefly, her smirk softening into something more playful. “Yeah, but you clearly like it.”

Azzi huffed, turning her gaze out the window to avoid giving Paige the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. But her resolve didn’t last long. Her eyes betrayed her, flickering back to Paige’s hands on the steering wheel. The way her fingers flexed just slightly, the grip firm and sure—it was ridiculous how something so mundane could have Azzi’s thoughts spiraling.

Paige caught her again, and her smirk deepened. “Are you seriously doing it again dude?”

Azzi groaned, slouching in her seat. “Oh my God, stop.”

“Stop what?” Paige asked innocently, purposefully shifting her grip on the wheel, her fingers flexing just a little more dramatically this time.

Azzi covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled as she muttered, “I hate you so much.”

Paige laughed, the sound light and teasing. “No, you don’t.” She shifted her hands again, dragging the moment out, clearly enjoying Azzi’s growing frustration.

“Paige,” Azzi warned, her voice low, though it lacked any real bite.

“What?” Paige asked, feigning innocence as she glanced over at her. “I’m just driving.”

Azzi groaned, leaning back in her seat. “Oh my God, just stop. Why do you even drive like that?”

“Like what?” Paige asked innocently.

Azzi let out a frustrated noise and covered her face with her hands. “You’re doing it on purpose now. I know you are.”

Paige chuckled, her laugh warm and teasing. “Maybe.” She then switched driving hands as she dropped her right hand from the wheel, letting it fall casually onto Azzi’s leg.

Azzi froze, her breath hitching as Paige’s fingers rested just above her knee, her touch light but deliberate. Her wide eyes snapped to Paige, who kept her gaze firmly on the road, her smirk now bordering on a full grin.

“What are you doing?” Azzi demanded, her voice higher than she intended.

Paige shrugged, her tone casual. “Nothing. Just resting my hand. Relax.”

Azzi’s hands shot up in disbelief, gesturing toward the offending hand on her leg. “Relax? Are you kidding me? Move your hand before you crash!”

Paige laughed, giving her thigh the faintest squeeze before replying, “I’m not gonna crash from touching your leg, Azzi. Chill.”

Azzi groaned, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before snapping, “Fine! Move it before I lose my mind.”

Paige’s laugh deepened as she finally slid her hand back to the wheel. “You’re so easy to mess with.”

Azzi groaned, slumping into her seat and covering her face again. “I hate you. I actually hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Paige replied, glancing over with a playful glint in her eye. “Admit it, you like when I mess with you.”

Azzi huffed but couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading across her face—or the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Paige smirked, her confidence only growing. “I’m not the one having a heart attack over getting their leg touched.”

Azzi glared at her but couldn’t fight the laugh bubbling out. She shook her head, muttering under her breath. “I’m going to lose my mind before we get back to Connecticut.”

Paige glanced at her again, the teasing replaced with something softer, though her smirk lingered. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she murmured, her voice quieter but no less bold.

Azzi bit her lip, forcing herself to look out the window again, but she couldn’t hide the way her cheeks burned—or the way her heart raced whenever Paige pushed her buttons just like this.

…

The teasing had died down as the miles stretched on, replaced by a comfortable silence. Azzi was staring out the window, watching the trees blur past, but her mind was thinking about any and everything related to the girl sitting next to her. She glanced at Paige, her jaw set in quiet concentration as she navigated the highway. Finally, Azzi broke the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, glancing over briefly. “Yeah, of course.”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Why did everyone used to be so worried about you? I remember hearing stuff, but no one really explained. And when I started going with you it was never that bad so why’d they make it such a big deal before?”

Paige’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel. She let out a slow breath, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “That’s... kind of a long-ish story.”

Azzi turned toward her, leaning slightly against the door. “We’ve got time.” Her voice was soft, no pressure, just genuine curiosity.

Paige laughed lightly, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Okay, but you can’t freak out, it was a long time ago, alright?”

Azzi frowned but nodded. “Alright.”

Paige shifted in her seat, adjusting her grip on the wheel. “It was after the Final Four. A couple of weeks after we lost. I just... wasn’t in a good place. I blamed myself for everything—every missed shot, every mistake. It felt like I let everyone down. So, I did what I always do. I locked myself in the gym.”

Azzi’s brow furrowed. “For how long?”

Paige shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “A couple of days, maybe?I didn’t realize I wasn’t really eating or drinking water. Just working out, watching film, shooting until I couldn’t stand anymore.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Literally.”

Azzi’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Evina found me passed out,” Paige admitted quietly, her voice almost lost under the hum of the car. “It was just dehydration and not eating enough, nothing serious. But after that, everyone started treating me like I was fragile or something.”

Azzi stared at her, the air catching in her throat. “Paige...”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Paige said quickly, waving it off. “Dehydration, low blood sugar—nothing serious.”

“That is serious,” Azzi countered, her tone sharp with concern.

Paige shrugged, a faint bitterness in her smile. “Maybe. But at the time, it felt like I deserved it, you know? I wasn’t happy, Az. Not with basketball, not with myself. I basically hated myself. It was like... no matter how much time I spent in the gym, it didn’t make up for how I felt. I just wanted to work hard enough to forget, but instead, I ended up running myself into the ground.”

Azzi’s brow furrowed as she processed Paige’s words. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Paige let out a soft laugh. “Who? Tell them what? That I couldn’t handle the pressure? That I felt like a failure? Everyone was looking at me to bounce back, to lead, to be Paige Bueckers. I couldn’t let them see me crack.” She paused, her voice barely above a whisper. “I felt so alone. Like no one understood what I was going through. So I didn’t talk to anyone and just spent my days in the gym.”

Azzi’s chest tightened. “Paige, that’s... I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe you went through all of that by yourself.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” Paige murmured. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can just explain to people.”

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but Paige spoke first. “My knee’s starting to ache a little.” She glanced at Azzi, her tone lighter but her eyes searching. “There’s a diner at the next exit. Let’s stop for a bit.”

Azzi frowned slightly, sensing something beneath the excuse, but nodded. “Yeah, okay. You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I just... want to sit for a bit. And, you know, look at you while we talk instead of staring at the road.”

Azzi felt her cheeks warm at the admission but said nothing as Paige took the exit.

Once they were seated in a quiet booth at the corner of the diner, Azzi finally spoke. “I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”

Paige stirred her water with her straw, her expression contemplative. “I didn’t either, not at first. I thought I could handle it. But looking back... I was just running from how I felt.” She glanced up at Azzi, her eyes soft. “You know what I mean?”

Azzi nodded slowly. “Yes actually. When I tore my ACL, I thought my career was over. I didn’t want to get out of bed, let alone go to rehab. My parents practically had to drag me out of the house some days and force me to shower. I felt like I’d never be the same player again, like I let everyone down. It was... dark for a while.”

Paige leaned forward to let Azzi know she was listening. “How did you get through it?”

Azzi shrugged. “Time, mostly. And people not giving up on me, even when I gave up on myself. But it’s still hard, you know? Some days, it still feels like the world’s too heavy to carry.”

Paige nodded, her gaze steady on Azzi. “Yeah. I get that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind where neither of them felt the need to fill the space. Paige finally broke it with a soft laugh. “You’re really easy to talk to, you know that?”

Azzi smiled, her eyes warm. “So are you.”

As they sat there, the hum of the diner around them, Paige felt a strange sense of peace settle over her.

The conversation deepened as they sat in the quiet corner of the diner, their voices low but steady. Paige found herself opening up about things she hadn’t thought about in years, things she’d never told anyone else—her childhood, her family, the moments that shaped her love for basketball. Azzi listened intently, chiming in with her own stories. They talked for hours and didn’t even notice.

“You were a troublemaker as a kid, huh?” Paige teased, leaning back in the booth.

Azzi grinned. “Not trouble, exactly. I just had... energy. My mom says I never sat still, which is probably why sports were the only thing that worked for me.”

Paige smirked. “Explains a lot.”

Azzi nudged her foot under the table. “And you? Let me guess—perfect student, teacher’s pet, MVP of the kickball team?”

Paige chuckled. “Something like that. I always wanted to be the best at everything, even if it didn’t matter. Like, who cares if you’re the fastest at spelling quizzes?”

“Apparently you did,” Azzi teased, her smile softening. “That competitive streak must’ve made you fun to grow up with.”

Paige shrugged, her tone turning reflective. “It was a lot of pressure, though. Some of it I put on myself, but a lot came from... expectations. Like, if I wasn’t the best, what was the point?”

Azzi nodded in understanding. “I get that. I think that’s why I struggled so much after my injury. For so long, basketball was who I was. When I couldn’t play, it felt like I didn’t know myself anymore. I didn’t know what to do day in and day out.”

Paige reached across the table, her fingers brushing Azzi’s hand briefly before she pulled back. “I’m really glad you didn’t give up.”

Azzi’s eyes softened. “Me too.”

Their waiter approached, setting down Azzi’s dessert—a large slice of chocolate cake with a swirl of whipped cream on top. Paige shook her head, laughing softly. “Of course you’d order that.”

Azzi picked up her fork with a grin. “What can I say? I’m predictable.” She took a bite, humming in satisfaction before holding a forkful out toward Paige. “Here, try it.”

Paige wrinkled her nose. “You’re always trying to get me to eat sugar.”

“Because it’s not as fun when I have to eat it by myself,” Azzi shot back, waving the fork in front of her. “C’mon, just one bite. It’s really good.”

Paige sighed dramatically but leaned forward, letting Azzi feed her the bite of cake. She chewed, her face carefully neutral before finally swallowing. “Okay, fine. It’s good.”

Azzi smirked, leaning back triumphantly. “Told you.”

When the check came, Paige didn’t give Azzi a chance to reach for her wallet. She slid her card into the leather folder and handed it to the waiter without a word.

Azzi arched a brow. “You never even let me try to pay for anything.”

Paige shrugged, standing up and grabbing her coat. “You’ll get the next one.”

“Next one?” Azzi echoed, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Paige glanced over her shoulder. “Unless this is the last road trip we ever take together?”

Azzi shook her head, laughing as they headed back to the car. The air outside was crisp, but Paige felt warm, the lingering glow of their conversation following her as she slid into the driver’s seat.

Azzi settled in beside her, glancing over as Paige started the engine. “You know,” she said softly, “I like this.”

Paige glanced at her. “What?”

“This,” Azzi said, gesturing between them. “Whatever this is. Us just... being.”

Paige smiled, her heart full in a way she couldn’t quite put into words. “Yeah. Me too.”

…

By the time they pulled into the parking lot in Connecticut, the car was silent except for the low hum of the engine. Azzi was sound asleep, her head resting gently against the window, her breaths slow and even. Paige turned off the car and let herself sit for a moment, her eyes drifting over to Azzi. She took in the way the soft moonlight highlighted her features, her peaceful expression making Paige’s chest tighten.

Paige smiled to herself, leaning back in her seat. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered under her breath, the words barely audible.

Reaching out, Paige gently ran her hand down the side of Azzi’s face, her fingers brushing her cheek lightly. The touch caused Azzi to stir, her brows furrowing as she slowly blinked awake.

“Hey,” Paige said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re back.”

Azzi stretched slightly, her movements sluggish as she tried to wake herself up. Eventually Paige stepped out of the car, walking around to Azzi’s door. She opened it, leaning in with a teasing smile. “Come on before I carry you.”

Azzi snorted, her voice still thick with sleep. “Paige, you can’t carry me.”

Paige scoffed, a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. “Oh, really?”

Before Azzi could protest, Paige slid one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, lifting her out of the car with surprising ease. Azzi squealed, grabbing onto Paige’s shoulders. “Put me down!” she yelped, her voice pitching higher than usual.

Paige grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “What’s wrong? I thought you said I couldn’t carry you.”

“Paige, your knee!” Azzi scolded, trying to sound serious but failing as laughter bubbled out. “You just got cleared to play again—don’t go ruining it!”

Paige hummed in thought at the mention of being cleared to play. “Hmm...”

“No,” Azzi interrupted, narrowing her eyes even as she laughed.

“Pleaseee?” Paige said, dragging the word out dramatically, her smile widening as she put Azzi down gently onto the pavement.

Azzi groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. “You’re literally insane,” she muttered, already knowing where this was heading.

“Come on Az please,” Paige pressed, her tone playful but pleading.

Azzi sighed, finally relenting. “Fine,” she said, shaking her head. “But you’re getting my shoes.”

Paige’s face lit up like she’d won a championship. “Deal!”

Azzi chuckled, turning back toward the car to get back in the passenger seat. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to fight you on this.”

Paige didn’t respond, already jogging toward the suite with a bounce in her step. “I’ll be right back!” she called over her shoulder.

Azzi shook her head, smiling despite herself. “She’s gonna be the death of me,” she muttered, getting back in the car as Paige ran inside to grab their basketball shoes, her energy contagious even in the middle of the night.

…

If Azzi didn’t know any better, she’d think Paige was on something. The blonde had been in the gym for hours, bouncing off the walls with energy, clearly ecstatic to be freely shooting a basketball again—even if she wasn’t cleared for contact.

Azzi, on the other hand, was drained. She’d given up about thirty minutes ago, peeling off her basketball shoes and resigning herself to sitting on the floor, watching Paige’s every move. She leaned back on her hands, her chest rising and falling steadily as she caught her breath. Her eyes following Paige darting around the court, making shot after shot, her smile brighter than the overhead light they had turned on.

Eventually, Paige bounded over to her and, without warning, dramatically sprawled across Azzi’s lap, her sweaty body pressing against Azzi’s.

Azzi groaned, trying for annoyance but failing as her lips curved into a small smile. “Ew, Paige, you’re sweaty.” She didn’t, however, make any effort to push her off.

Paige grinned up at her, clearly unbothered. “Alright, I think I’m done.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, feigning shock. “Oh wow, it only took three hours. Truly a miracle.”

Paige laughed softly, her smile warm and unguarded as she looked up at Azzi. Something in her expression softened, and for a moment, the only sound was their steady breathing.

Azzi hesitated, her chest tightening as she gazed down at Paige. She reached out instinctively, brushing a strand of sweaty hair out of Paige’s face. Her fingers lingered for a second before she spoke, her voice quiet and a little shaky. “I really love your eyes.”

Paige blinked as her cheeks flushed faintly as her grin softened into something more genuine. “I love your smile,” she murmured, her voice steady but low, like it was meant just for Azzi.

They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them hung with unspoken emotions. Paige’s expression was completely open, her gaze searching Azzi’s as if she were trying to commit every detail of her face to memory.

The closeness sent Azzi’s heart racing, the feeling so intense it almost overwhelmed her. So she quickly pushed Paige off her lap and stood up, clearing her throat. “Come on,” she said, trying to mask the flustered edge in her voice.

Paige smiled to herself as she got up and followed Azzi. But instead of heading toward the gym’s front doors and her car, she grabbed Azzi’s hand, intertwining their fingers and tugging her in the opposite direction.

Azzi groaned lightly, though she didn’t pull away. “Where are we going now, Paige?”

Paige glanced back, her grin teasing.

“We’re gonna watch the sunrise.”

Azzi stopped complaining immediately, her curiosity piqued as Paige led her to the elevator.

When they reached the rooftop, the early morning air hit them, but Azzi immediately vetoed going outside. “No you’re gonna get us sick,” she scolded. “We’re sweaty, and it’s freezing.”

Paige laughed but didn’t argue, following Azzi to a spot by the glass windows that offered a perfect view of the sky. They sat down side by side, the first light of dawn spilling through the panes and casting a soft glow over them.

Azzi rested her head on Paige’s shoulder, her body relaxing into the blonde. She reached for Paige’s hand, her fingers lightly playing with Paige’s in an absentminded gesture that felt far more intimate than either of them acknowledged.

They watched in silence as the sky gradually brightened, the world slowly coming alive with shades of pink, purple, and gold.

Paige turned her head slightly, resting her cheek against Azzi’s hair. “Thanks for coming with me today,” she said softly, her voice low and sincere.

Azzi tilted her head up to meet Paige’s gaze, her lips curving into a small smile. “Always.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, letting the moment stretch until the sun fully broke the horizon, casting its warm light over them.

Eventually, as the last traces of night faded and the sun rose higher into the sky, Paige sighed and stretched. “Well, I guess we should go finally get some sleep.”

Azzi agreed, lifting her head off Paige’s shoulder and standing up. Paige followed suit, and the two of them walked back toward the elevator, hands still lingering together.

Once they were back in the car, the drive to Paige’s dorm was quiet, the peacefulness of the morning lingering between them. By the time they arrived, the exhaustion from their trip hit them all at once.

They both took quick showers, Azzi finding herself some clothes in Paige’s drawer while Paige showered.

Paige slumped onto her bed, pulling the covers up. Azzi followed suit, crawling under the blankets next to her.

As the lights went off, the silence of the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing. Despite the exhaustion, neither of them wanted to drift off just yet. They exchanged a glance, a small smile shared between them, as they settled into the warmth of the bed.

"Goodnight, Az," Paige whispered, her voice gentle but filled with something deeper, something unspoken.

Azzi smiled softly, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, Paige."

…

A week or so later, Paige was sitting in the training room, her legs stretched out on the bench as she scrolled through her phone. Her lips curled into a smile, her eyes lighting up as she read whatever was on her screen.

Evina, who was seated across from her, noticed immediately and let out a laugh. “What’s got you all smiley over there?”

Paige glanced up, caught off guard but unable to wipe the grin off her face. “It’s nothing,” she said, her tone too casual to be convincing. She glanced back at her phone before quickly adding, “Azzi just sent me something. She’s on her way now.”

Evina raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. She’d been waiting for an opening like this. “Speaking of Azzi, what’s going on with you two?”

Paige froze, her fingers halting mid-scroll. “What do you mean?” she asked, feigning ignorance, but the blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her.

Evina leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she gave Paige a knowing look. “Come on, Paige. You two are pretty close now. Like, real close.”

Paige let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. “Nah, she’s just like... my best friend now,” she said, her voice a little too quick and defensive.

Evina wasn’t buying it. She tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Paige, be fucking for real,” she said, her tone teasing but firm.

Before Paige could respond, the door to the training room opened, and Azzi walked in. She headed straight for Paige without hesitation, a warm smile on her face as she leaned down to wrap her arms around the blonde in a quick but affectionate hug.

Paige blushed even deeper under Evina’s gaze, her hands lingering a second too long on Azzi’s back before she pulled away.

Evina smirked, leaning back in her seat with her arms crossed. “Wow,” she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “No love for Mama E?”

Azzi laughed, the sound light and unbothered, as she turned to Evina. “Alright, alright,” she said, walking over to give her a quick side hug. “You happy now?”

Evina shook her head with a grin, glancing pointedly between the two of them. “Oh, I’m very happy. This is way better than anything I could’ve imagined.”

Paige groaned, burying her face in her hands, while Azzi, not really knowing the context, just chuckled and perched herself on the bench next to her.

Evina wasn’t about to let up, but Paige shot her a pleading look, mouthing, Don’t. Evina raised her hands in mock surrender, but the mischievous twinkle in her eye promised this conversation wasn’t over.

[sschizoid]

Hello! Saw you were taking requests, how about the Tulpar crew going to an amusement/theme park together? Could be Disney or literally any theme park. Thank you 😊

whoosh! your wishes are my commands, anons !! (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

--

curly

he brought sunscreen and you can bet your ass he's going to remind everyone to reapply every two hours

can get motion sick pretty easily, so he tries to stick to the tamer rides. the ferris wheel is definitely his favorite, though he still feels his stomach churn each rotation. the view from the top is worth it

saw a stand where someone was doing caricature drawings and thought it sounded really fun. sat for a good 10 minutes while the artist worked before being handed the result and felt his heart drop. smiles and thanks the man, but spends the rest of the day looking for reassurance from his peers. "haha, oh man. this drawing is crazy, right? my nose is just... so big. like, almost a little too big, don't you think? ahah, it's... it's waaaay too big, right?"

jimmy

carnivals and amusement parks are actually pretty nostalgic for him. he wasn't super well-off growing up, no vacations or family trips or anything. but the carnival? it was close by, easy to sneak into, and not super difficult to find lost tickets littering the ground

especially skilled at tent games. balloon darts, ring toss, you name it. he's extremely competitive and let's the carnies know that he knows their shitty little tricks when it comes to sabotaging gameplay, and if they try anything on him, he's gonna make them real fucking sorry

shamelessly pays $12 for a solo cup of beer and fried cheese curds

anya

she loves amusement parks. as a child, she found herself drawn to the more extravagant rides, but now finds comfort in the simpler ones. she particularly enjoys the mirror maze and carousel

one of her weaknesses is funnel cake. specifically the kind with powered sugar, chocolate drizzle, and strawberries. she promises herself she'll only have a few bites, but that's not happening. she's eating the whole thing in under 3 minutes

constantly getting sucked into those games where the carnies goad and howl at you. she'll brush it off and laugh awkwardly at first, trying to skirt past, but if a dunk tank heckler teases her one too many times, she's gonna throw balls at that button until she's either broke or he treads water. whatever comes first

swansea

he's too old for this shit. he tags along, but just kind of hangs on to everyone else's stuff while they do their own thing

...well, that's how things started, at least. after he warms up to the environment a bit, he's not gonna be opposed to having a little fun, but not too much. he asks the woman at the face-painting stand to give him a bit of flourish, but nothing too crazy. she turns him into a tiger

daisuke will pressure him into trying bumper cars, but of course the fucking car he's assigned doesn't want to work. he just sits there with his chin in his hands waiting for it to be over while a bunch of kids ram into him from all angles laughing their asses off. daisuke is no better than them and joins in. he thinks its hilarious

daisuke

total thrill-seeker, the ricketier, the better. especially fond of the ones that make your stomach drop and your eyes bulge. think drop towers, pendulums, and zippers.

if there's a haunted house, he's gonna be really obnoxious during tense and quiet moments, letting out a sharp gasp and making everyone around him jump. he does this at least 3 times before getting a taste of his own medicine when a scare actor sneaks up behind him and screams. bro is shook to his core after that

absolute master at the tilt-a-whirl. has his rotations and leans down to a science, no matter how much weight is in the car, and will keep the cab spinning the entire time. god help anyone who is partnered with him

--

such a good and fun idea it was asked for twice! tysm! if anyone else has any requests; my asks are open !! ⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾

[fadetouchedsilk]

I think when it comes to Veilguard critique there’s a bit of a disconnect between what I see most people complaining about vs. What a lot of the rebuttals to these opinions seem to be.

I can’t speak for everyone else but at this point when I come at this game it’s almost purely Doylist. I think it’s kind of ridiculous for my experience as a player to seem lacking when compared to the narrative experience of the NPCs. The setting isn’t real; it’s a product that was marketed as being ‘the most romantic Dragon Age yet,’ which implies a level of wish-fulfilment that we were supposed to expect. Which is fine! But it’s not what was delivered.

If I’m criticizing a romance & comparing the Rook version of it to the NPC/NPC version of it, it’s not because I’m violently jealous of the version that doesn’t include my character. It’s because I can make a direct comparison to things the writers come across as caring more about. Never mind the fact that we get statements in the AMA like ‘Yeah, we really wanted to include the Lords even if we knew they weren’t going to get the content the other factions had.’ You’re allowed to like that faction, you’re not stupid for doing so. It’s not a deliberate shot at you if someone points out how ridiculous the decision to keep the Lords in was when the devs were aware that they weren’t going to be able to develop them properly, especially when compared to other factions.

It doesn’t do anyone any favours to take criticism of the game personally. “This is good on a technical level” and “I personally liked this thing” are separate statements that need to coexist.

I don’t want to say it’s a waste of time to examine things from a Watsonian perspective, but I’m having a harder time doing that here because the shortcomings of the writers are so apparent, particularly when you hold it against the other Dragon Age games.

Maybe some people are being malicious in their criticism, idk. If that’s the case, then it’s definitely not worth engaging with on any level. But don’t automatically assume that someone who says ‘I didn’t care for the way this aspect was written’ is an automatic dog whistle for ‘I think you’re dumb if you disagree with me’ either.

The game has been out for a few months now. Take opinions with a grain of salt & form your own. If we shouldn’t be expected to place several disclaimers at the start of every opinion we post on this website, then we also shouldn’t be automatically assigning bad faith interpretations to every opinion that isn’t worded with perfect thoughtfulness either.

[antinous-of-ithaca]

Roleplay Starter: Panic Attack.

Being sober was almost a challenge.. one which he couldn't really acomplish.

Despite everything he had promised not to do, it was becoming increasily hard not to relish the old habits that kept him from losing his mind. Or well, at least lose it within his thoughts, because he would eventually do it either way due to the sea of alcohol he was drowning himself in.

That thought was.. scary. Somehow. But he was not meant to feel that way. Not when he had so many eyes on him, and a great chance to lose.

Maybe he wanted the crown to be important. To have something to cling on if everything went wrong all of a sudden. It had happened before and he was certainly not willing to go through that again, not when things seemed to go.. well, for once in his fucking lifetime.

"Am I really going to get better?"

He asked himself, as a bead of sweat ran down his forehead as thoughts ran through his mind. Though, he would've liked them to enter his right ear and escape out the other, just like they did with everything else; with the advice he rejected and the words of encouragement that didn't mean anything for his stupid brain.

With each question he asked himself, it seemed like things got worse. His own body reacting without consulting his mind first, like it had become independent, somehow.

Antinous' right leg bounced up and down as a result of the new state of anxiousness he found himself in, which was the least of his concerns at the moment. It felt like he couldn't hear anything outside his mind, like the whole world had gone silent under the voices in his head, which became even louder with each second he spent being sober.

Antinous knew this sensation. He knew what it meant, what the consequences were. But, he couldn't really bring himself to ask for help, could he? Not when he was always treating people like trash. Who in their right mind would help him in any way? Definitely not any suitor, since he was just one of them, and therefore many of them saw him as a threat. Not the staff, he had been a jerk ever since he came here, and he was sure they wanted him dead as much as the nobles did.

He was just scum in the side of the road, waiting to be kicked and crashed by someone else's foot.

Tears came out of his eyes at the mere thought. He knew he wasn't any better than the people around him. They knew he wasn't. It was just his mind that was using it as a defense mechanism, which wasn't working at all. Not when sober. Not when he could hear his own thoughts at the absence of sound.

He tried to stop himself, wipe away the tears coming out of his eyes before it could get any worse. But of course that didn't work, nothing did. It felt like he had a river running down his face. He didn't really sob, though. He choked down any sounds that could come out of his damn mouth.

Oh, how many times he could've keep it shut? How many problems could he hace avoided if he thought of doing this sooner?

All the sounds in the background sounded like white noise. Which would've helped earlier, but were now making it worse.

Laugher. He could hear it coming from every damn corner in the palace and, even if he had locked himself in a different room, his head convinced him that it was the world mocking him for every single mistake he made. From being born to thinking he could ever archieve being a king.

What did that stupid crown even mean? That you had power over others? Or that you won in life, somehow? It didn't matter what stupid price he would get if he even got to be king, when all he could think about was how many people he hurt. How he had let himself be dragged by the chains of his own pride like a lowly slave. But, in a sense, he was a slave of his own desires.

Nothing of what he did had made him happy. Not drinking, not mocking others, not eating expensive food that wasn't even his. Nothing. It felt.. weird not to be able to satisfy his greed.

Antinous had seen countless men finding what they wanted. He saw them cheer, laugh and smile. He had too. But there wasn't anything else to it for him. Those people felt happy for days, while he seeked another goal.

He was losing himself. Losing his mind, his friends, his whole life! But he couldn't do much about it. It felt like he could only sit and watch as he built a meaningless wall just to have another one crumple to the ground. He couldn't do it right, he was far too gone, far too cold, far too much for anyone to understand and drag him out of this grave he had digged for himself.

Just then, Antinous felt like the walls closed around him, pressuring every inch of his body. His own clothes became uncomfortable, like they weren't made of fabric, but of ants that were crawling his body and biting onto his now scarred skin.

He tried to scream. Nothing came out of his lips.. no sound but a gasp as he felt a non-existent rope around his throat, tightening with every move he made around the supply closet he had hid himself in.

But yes, he was hiding like a fucking child. He was pathetic enough to think he could hide from himself. To think he could change that and do something for himself.

It would be better if he just could get a bottle of wine and drink himself to death. But even then, who would look for him? Hell, he wasn't sure if he would even get a proper burial.

He didn't deserve any better anyway. Not now or ever. If anything, he deserved the right to live just to continue his cycle until he died of old age or someone ended him for good.

He couldn't take being sober. Not.. now.

Antinous was willing to drink again, die while doing so. But even then, the world laughed at in his face as he tried to stand up, only to fall back to the floor. He felt like an animal who had been injured. Except there was no apparent reason for him to be unable to walk.

He tried again, his knees buckling once again in a response to his almost desperate attempts.

He was going to die here. He just knew it. Everything was spinning around him, his limps numb to any sort of pain that came from the outside, except the growing headache he was getting.

He felt sick. Like his anxiety was actually going to make him throw his guts over the floor. Every rational thought left his body, tears streaming down his face along with sweat as he gasped for air once again, only managining to hiperventilate by trying.

"Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!"

His hands went to his head, trying to distract himself, to snap out of it by pulling on his hair.

Numbness.

Oh, gods, he hated it. And even if he knew it was in vain, he continued, not even noticing he was openly sobbing. That was being too loud.. that if someone passed nearby, he would be heard.

OOC: I saw that rp starters tagged people but I was too nervous to do it. So, sorry to anyone who might be annoyed by this tagging. 😭

@sonofpolybus @the-epic-amphinomus @penelope-is-waiting @thetorturedsuitor @eurydiceofsparta @bright-side-of-the-moon-tele

[millilps]

someone else might've said this too (I didn't read the comments) but we see only one place of the entire planet unless there's stuff in classwho that i haven't seen yet. yes, silver trees are certainly a problem budget and cgi wise - creating an alien planet is easy, we've never actually seen one, but trees? we see them everyday. one wrong detail can make them look uncanny and wrong even if it's a small thing. I saw a post about how classic who and most old shows and games fully took advantage of how the tvs were made to make themselves look better than they actually look, but nowadays we have screens with a quality never seen before where we almost can see every minute detail of every single thing in a scene, meaning that those trees would have to be extremely well made to look right. still, could be done, difficult but not impossible.

but... maybe that's how the Doctor and Susan remember Gallifrey. I'm not saying the Gallifrey we see is what it's actually supposed to look like (I too want to see the silver trees they keep mentioning) but what if, since they haven't been there in a long time, they have a memory of Gallifrey through the lenses of nostalgia?

from The Sensorites (transcript):

as the First Elder says, it's clear that Susan misses Gallifrey and describes it in the way she remembers it, and since it's been ages since they've seen it, Susan was most definitely even younger than she was at the start of the show, maybe even a child, meaning she saw the world in a different way than she does when we meet her.

she remembers the planet through the eyes of a kid who grew up there and then left. I grew up and still live in a small town that has pretty much nothing interesting, some events every now and then, but it's certainly not a place for teens and kids. and yet, when I'm not there, when I'm in a big city, I miss this small place with all the trees and the nature and the faces I know even if I like living in a big city, so what if it's the same for them? missing a place/person/thing can make you remember it/them in a way that is not completely incorrect but is also filtered through nostalgia, giving you a slightly distorted version of the memory. meaning that it might not be a fully reliable source

the same principle can be applied to the Doctor. they left together so it's been the same time since they saw it for both and, important detail, the Doctor keeps losing their memories from regeneration to regeneration so the smaller details about Gallifrey could be long forgotten. sure, the Doctor went back multiple times after Susan - both willingly and not, Susan possibly also went back at some point but it's not confirmed anywhere yet - but that doesn't make their memories any more reliable, I mean, look at 8 and 13 barely remembering who they are! I would not trust their brains with the description of a place I've never seen when they can't even remember their names.

anyway, BBC give us the trees with silver leaves and the burnt orange night skies since you're not giving us Susan, please.

craziest shit about seeing gallifrey in the new series is fhey talk about how pretty and breathtakingly beautiful it is and how there’s silver trees reflecting the two suns & then we get a look at it and it’s just fallout 4 west virginia landscape

[sweetteaanddragons]

So! It's been long enough now that someone else has almost certainly already said all this and said to better, but laying it out will help me sort through my own thoughts on it. Let's look at Epic: The Musical and ruthlessness.

Throughout the musical, the question of whether or not goals should be pursed ruthlessly has been emphasized. Odysseus's arc, unquestionably, is one of learning to accept ruthless action, and this ends with him achieving his goal. Looking at his arc alone, this would suggest a theme like, "Ruthlessness is effective."

. . . of course, looking at his arc a little more closely, we also see that ruthlessness, like mercy, has a cost. Yes, letting Polyphemus live cost him Poseidon's wrath. (Of course, his pride played just as big a role in creating that particular bill . . . ) On the other hand, his ruthless action with Scylla cost him the trust of his men, leading to the mutiny, the deaths of the cattle, the deaths of his crew . . . and, as is plainly seen in later songs, a good chunk of his peace of mind.

He kills the suitors, explicitly turning down any chance of a more merciful resolution! Interestingly, the musical then ends before exploring the consequences of this as the original poem does. All of the suitors had families . . . and those families are going to want payback of their own. Since the musical chooses not to address this, though, we'll leave it out of any discussion of the theme.

What the musical does choose to do is have Athena present her final thoughts on the matter. Athena has been going through the opposite arc to Odysseus: she starts the musical urging him to put his emotions aside and be more ruthless and ends it worrying that she's led him wrong. Athena herself has embraced more merciful actions, choosing to forgive Odysseus's disobedience to her and to fight for him even without any guarantee that she would gain his renewed friendship as a reward. By the end of the musical, Athena has the Odysseus she originally wanted . . . and she's no longer sure this is the kind of world she wants to live in. ("What if there's a world where we don't have to live this way?" which is an interesting echo of Polites: "Tell me is this how we're supposed to live?")

Odysseus decides he can't afford to work for that world . . . but he doesn't reject it as something not worth wanting, only as something he can't have. As the show's final (direct) comment on ruthlessness, it would seem to suggest the theme is something like, "In some situations, ruthlessness can be necessary, but a world where it isn't is something to strive for." (In which case, it's interesting to start dissecting whether the story believes that the modern world has achieved that second state, or whether the story still sees it as aspirational.)

(Side note: this definitely reminded me of one of Dalinar and Nohadon's conversations in Stormlight Archive about the kinds of codes of honor written by kings in times of peace vs. the actions kings take to get to those times of peace.)

Looking at some of the other side characters:

Telemachus attempts mercy in "Odysseus" but it backfires on him.

On the other hand, Eurylochus, one of the original proponents of ruthlessness in the musical, utterly fails to survive the play.

. . . of course, neither does Polites, the proponent of mercy.

Polyphemus denies Odysseus's crew mercy and suffers for it, while if he had taken their bargain, he probably would have been fine. Poseidon falls into the same category. Circe offers Odysseus mercy and is fine . . .

. . . but the whole reason she is initially ruthless is because failing to be has cost her before, and she only resorts to mercy when her ruthless attempt to kill Odysseus fails.

Which brings us to an interesting line in her final song:

"Maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more/maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer MORE."

Which ties in interestingly to Athena and Odysseus's conversation wherein Athena hopes for a better world someday.

So where does that leave the musical's message?

I'd argue that the musical's ultimate message on it is that, "Ruthlessness is effective so long as you have the power to back it up . . . which is one reason why a better world is one to strive for."

If you're powerful enough and you make sure to always shut anyone down before they can hurt you, you can ensure you don't get hurt.

The problem, of course, is making sure you're always the biggest monster in the room - and as Poseidon's fall demonstrates, you are never, ever going to be powerful enough to ensure that forever.

Odysseus, however, is convinced that Poseidon was right: "the world is dark." Ruthlessness may lead to a dark path that ultimately leads to your own gruesome death, but it's the only way to achieve even a moment of victory.

Which then brings us to Circe and Athena's lyrics that point to the future world - or, from our perspective, our world. Is it a world that can be safely greeted with open arms? Is it a world that can't?

And if it's a world that can't, can we afford the cost of letting it remain that way? Is Odysseus's world, where every threat is shut down as quickly and cruelly as possible until WE'RE the threat that's cut down, actually the world we want to live in?

. . . ooooh, wait a minute. Hold on.

Because the musical doesn't end with his scene with Athena. It ends with his reunion with Penelope.

Ruthlessness can get him to Penelope. It can bring him home alive.

It can't force her to still love him.

And in a worldview strictly defined by it . . . she shouldn't. She shouldn't be able to forgive him for failing her for twenty years. At most, she should accept him back on the grounds that he's clearly still the strongest warrior around, so for practical reasons - sure, yeah. We can still be married.

But that's not her perspective. Her perspective is of course she still loves him. Of course nothing can have destroyed the roots of their relationship.

In the end, she greets him with open arms.

[lostdrarryfics]

Oh, hey! We're back! Happy new year ✨

Our inbox is back open and we are accepting new requests! Thank you so much for your patience.

We have also compiled the last handful of lost fic requests from 2024 that we could not locate. You can browse those below if you don't mind taking a look. Please let us know if you recognize any of these fics!

1. looking for a fic where after the war hermione and harry also receive punishment for the crimes they committed over the course of DH (unforgivables/gringotts) I don’t remember it being framed as unfair or anything and the punishment iirc wasn’t draconian or anything, to my recollection, something like probation or community service. I believe in this universe it was just the case that people on all sides were tried, not just death eaters and their ilk. I honestly can’t remember how central to the fic this detail is, it might not be super prominent/plot pertinent, just a detail that stuck out to me, but since it’s not exactly typical for how people imagine the immediate aftermath would go, I’m hoping it’s findable. It was definitely drarry, definitely on ao3, and may have been multi chapter. fic is not Make Yourself by AnyaElizabeth

2. I've got a scene stuck in my head, but I'm struggling to remember which fic it's from. Harry and Draco are having supper, and Harry is eating a lot/very quickly, I think. Draco then (very bluntly/abrubtly) tells him that he had an eating disorder in 6th year, and asks whether Harry has food issues bc of the way he's eating? From what I remember, Harry is quite taken aback and denies, says he's just not great at cooking, or something along those lines. I'm pretty sure it's just a small scene in a longer fic, so I hope that it won't be too difficult to find! I almost definitely read it on ao3.

3. It is a little fuzzy in my memory now, but I remember it was set after the war. Harry and Draco enter a maze or forest by going through a tree gateway, I think the two trees that made the gateway were the trees that their wands were made of. In the place through the gateway(i dont remember what was beyond gateway) they face hardship, get together, and their souls get bonded. At the end they escape back and a deity/goddess tells them she made them face this trial to push them together and that drarry would always be together in the end, but she wanted them together quicker because if Ginny and Harry get together first, their child becomes a dark lord. The goddess/deity wanted to prevent this from happening and now that Drarry got together and are soul bonded, Harry will not be able to have kids with someone else.

4. something happened to Bellatrix (in the DOM, I think) and she was either killed or imprisoned. As a punishment, Voldemort took Narcissa as his lover in order to humiliate Lucius. I remember a scene where Harry and Draco sneak into a Death Eater gathering and Voldemort is sitting on a throne with Narcissa in his lap, wearing a Death Eater mask.

5. Post-war drarry, definitely dark with sexual assault triggers. Harry is struggling and ends up sleeping with Draco. When Draco doesn’t follow up, it triggers some lingering trauma from Harry’s childhood (he was assaulted by the husband of one of his uncle’s friends/coworkers/cousins as a kid). I remember at one point Harry having a breakdown in his bathroom and maybe being sent to St. Mungo’s? Either Hermione or Ginny feature as well (there was a line about one of them seeing him & instantly knowing he had gotten himself into trouble). Eventually Draco finds out, but I don’t remember the ending.

6. I read this probably 10+ years ago, I believe on ff.net. Pretty sure it’s set at Hogwarts during school years, multi-chapter, and Draco is either a spy or a reluctant ally to the Order/Golden Trio. The only detail I remember clearly is that Draco has an owl (or possibly a raven or another kind of bird) named Mordred. Ron tries to argue that only an evil git would name their pet Mordred. Draco explains that he named him Mordred because Mordred also killed his father, which reveals/confirms that Draco killed Lucius, and that helps convince Harry, Ron and Hermione that Draco is on their side.

7. looking for a fic where Harry has to attend an event (I think it's an opera?? or something classy) because Hermione had already bought the ticket and she didn't want it to be wasted. So, reluctantly, Harry attended the event and accidentally met Draco there. One thing I remember, when Harry arrived at the location, he was hungry, but as far as I remember, he didn't know where to buy food (or the ticket that Hermione bought didn't give him special access to buy food). After that, Draco came and invited him to eat together at the table he had reserved?? And then, they watch the show together and then, of course, they sleep together. Another thing that I remember is that Harry was in a relationship with Ron's brother, I think Charlie?? However, at that time, during their relationship, Charlie never revealed it to the public, even to his own family. It was as if Charlie was hiding the fact that he knew Harry was alive. Then, for a while the relationship continued, Charlie suddenly had to return to Romania and from there he cut off contact with Harry. Ron didn't know anything about this, and he often teased Harry by calling him bad names (without realizing that Harry was really hurt when Ron called him that). After hearing Harry's story, Ron was furious with his brother and threatened to tell his mother the same thing.

8. I read this fic on ao3 it was a ministry set one with established!drarry . Harry was an auror (possibly head auror) and Draco worked in the ministry too and Draco always matched his tie to the minister of magic

9. I just remember Draco is released from Azkaban and rowed over a body of water back to the real world for his release. His time is Azkaban took its toll on him and later he talks about it and what he did mentally to try and keep his happy memories in tact (at least the ones he could, others he lost to the dementors) the fic was most probably a long fic on ao3!

10. fic on AO3 that I read like 1-3 years ago! Pretty sure it’s longer/possibly chaptered, and most likely rated explicit/mature/not rated. Either one or both Harry and Draco are Veela (pretty sure? Might be some other magical creature). Takes place mostly in France at some sort of opulent Malfoy chateau/manor. There are some d/s dynamics but I can’t remember if it was actually tagged. They end up going at it in the bathtub and Harry gets pushed underwater for a bit during it. Other than that I remember Narcissa was good and a pretty major character, and there may have been a scene/chapter where they celebrated Christmas together and Harry got emotional because like found family, but I may be confusing this scene with another work.

11. fic where veela draco chooses harry as a mate, but harry refuses and insists he will never be his mate. however, they stick/live together, and sometimes harry "uses" draco for protection. i think harry was fighting for a political campaign? there was a scene where harry gets attacked and draco comes swooping in since he could sense the danger

12. Tsundere(?) Draco incomplete fanfic So read this fanfic years ago and im hopeful I can find it at AO3 if only I can remember the name. Here's what I remember: *Harry and Draco have a established relationship at Hogwarts. I don't think they were students, they were living there and training. Draco is kind of a tsundere in this one. *The first chapter was Harry and Draco coming back to their rooms from a wedding. Harry asked if they would ever get married to which Draco replies that he would give Harry the ring he gave Pansy. Harry says he doesn't want anything that belonged to Pansy to which Draco replies that he was just kidding, he would get Harry a new ring. Harry says it was still not what he meant and Draco says something romantic and says the only one I want to break my heart is you so don't break my heart, I can be a vicious bastard when i am wounded. To this harry replies, you must remain wounded something chronic *There's a female teacher who's teaching them combat i think with a staff and she hurts harry and Draco goes nuts and attacks her. I think the boys end up in the hospital wing and the teacher tells Dumbledore or someone how protective Draco is of Harry, she's never seen anything like it or something. *Then there's also a part where Draco goes out into the Hogwarts ground and summon a fairy like creature asking them to destroy voldemort so that he can be with harry at peace. And the fairy tells him that making rhe wish means he won't be able to have any children. She then informs him that Harry's awake, Draco's troubles have awakened him. He goes inside the castle and Harry confronts him asking what was happening. Draco refuses at first and Harry gives him the ultimatum that if he doesn't tell him, he will leave Draco. So Draco tells him. Harry then tries to comfort him and Draco says that he dares harry to tell him to adopt *There's a part where harry and Ron are playing Quidditch and Sirius and Draco are watching them. Sirius remarks that everytime he sees Harry and Draco together it looks like they are coming from a funeral. And Draco says he does make harry happy, would Sirius like to hear just how happy he made Harry this morning. And Sirius tells Draco to laugh with Harry. *The last chapter I read was Draco marrying Harry. He goes down on his knees in Ron and Hermiones kitchen and then says the vows and Harry is completely surprised and overjoyed. And Hermione asks Ron how he feels about it and a grinning Ron says like barfing. The fic was far from complete and i think itwas discontinued.

[starguardianniom]

Harumasa's health after his agent story

Let's be real here, his master's cure definitely changed things for him.

Probably in both a good and bad way.

Good because it literally saved his life and most likely bought him time so he might actually see past 26, though that's my headcanon since the game makes it clears that even the doctors have no ideas either.

Bad because well, it definitely most likely changes Harumasa's habits and gives him probably even more fear and anxiety to worry about.

Hear me out.

Harumasa is used to taking a lot of pills and most likely knows the patterns to his illness by now.

But with this cure he injected into himself?

It probably will change a lot of things for him.

I mean, for starters, if it controls his illness well, does that means he needs to have some changes in his prescriptions? Will he have new symptoms or something?

I can imagine Harumasa freaked the hell out when he awoke in the hospital after dealing with Kirishima and wondered what the heck was going on and how was he still alive because he was pretty sure he was a goner.

And then when his doctors told him he got better on his own he probably had a little mental breakdown because no way that happened and the doctors must have found a miracle treatment or something because his illness was really killing him there and with his master's "drug" he definitely thought of himself as a dead man.

Later, when finally getting through his head that he is really alive and well, he starts freaking out more because for once he doesn't hurt anywhere and it's probably the healthiest he's ever been and given he was on death's door he can't help but be extremely paranoid about his being alive and well and is scared to hell and back about what it means. Like did his illness mutate when he injected himself the drug? Is it just the calm before the storm? Is he about to get much worse? Could he suddently have worse symptoms than before? I imagine him being afraid of suddently having a seizure just like that because of the drug.

Also I see him not being in the best mental state when he wakes up because he just had about the most stressful week of his life, pursuing his master only to find out he turned into an ethereal right before he could find him which also means his years of searching for him for answers amounts to have been for nothing and losing the only person he could consider family after his parents abandoned him, having to fight him to the death while his illness was acting up badly, dealing with Kirishima, trying to save the kids, trying to get the drug before Kirishima, and then sacrificing himself so no one else would suffer like he did and to stop Kirishima for good, and then miraculously surviving and being healthier than he can remember most likely. His survival is something that happens in movies, not to him and not in real life, but the facts are there and he can't refute them so he does lose his mind a bit about it before he finally calms down.

So I headcanon that the first couple of days he stayed in the hospital and the others he stayed at home to get time to process everything before going back to work to be warmly welcomed back by his teammates and the proxy.

I bet he had a long talk about his doctor about how to proceed forward since his miraculous brush with death, like should they change his prescription, should he takes more or less pills, should he probably retire, should he takes a long vacation, and probably wanted to be tested for everything thrice just to be sure that there would be no surprises.

You're not gonna make me believe he was just fine after almost dying, he probably really was scared out of his mind afterwhat and only pulled through after much reassurances from the doctors that he was doing fine for now and that he could relax.

I mean, in his place I would be scared beyond belief as well, given the situation.

I should probably try to make a fic about it, unless someone else wants to do it, feel free to ask if you want it I'll happily let you have it first come first served.

[cant-see-sam]

better arms than promises;

for this request!!

(i infact did not get right on it)

snow fluttered down from the gray colorado sky as the early morning light streamed through the curtains. the smell of fresh bread (libby’s doing, most definitely) wafted into your room, enticing you to come downstairs and join the inevitable chaos that seemed to travel with the hawthorne brothers. it was peaceful, quiet, even.

too quiet.

you checked your phone, seeing a message from grayson:

I’m out with Xander; I promise I’ll be back for lunch.

groaning, you peeled off the tasseled blanket you had managed to bind yourself in sleep, only to be hit with the cabin's frigid air. fourty-six point two billion dollars, and avery would still refrain from too much heating. you grimaced as you tugged on a pair of socks and one of grayson’s sweatshirts, before padding down the stairs and into the kitchen. there, libby hurried around in a flutter.

“look alive, kid.” you weren’t aware of what nash was referring to until libby bumped into you, almost dropping the pan she was carrying. the eldest hawthorne brother sat on the counter, a lazy but adoring smile on his face as he watched his girlfriend. he had his usual cowboy hat on. a black one with a skull and lace detailing sat beside him, indicating another one of his attempts at getting libby to wear one. It was around eleven-thirty, yet the unusual couple seemed the only company in true north. 

you took a muffin from a cooling rack, picked off a piece of the top, and asked, “where’s everyone else?”

“avery’s out looking for some birthday gifts for rebbeca, and i think jameson is with her.” She posed the last part as a question, “xander and grayson are skiing… said something about ‘a drop?’” she made quotation marks with her hands.

at that, nash groaned. “those dumbasses are gonna get themselves killed.” 

“what’s drop?” you asked as you set down the muffin. you knew grayson and his brothers liked to make various games, some more exotic than others, but he had never mentioned this one.

 as if on cue, nash’s phone rang. chris stapleton’s “tennesee whisky” blared from the speakers. he looked at it, rolling his eyes and bringing the phone to his ear, “xander?” he asked. xander’s voice on the other end was muffled. still, you could make out ‘accident,’ ‘grayson,’ and ‘ER.’ nash’s face twisted into something like concern, mumbling, “i’m on my way,” before hopping down from the counter, kissing libby’s forehead and grabbing the keys to the prius.

you spoke before thinking about it: “I’m coming with.” you could hear your heart pumping, and you wondered if the others could, too.

nash turned to face you, “come on then.”

the tension in the car was so palpable that someone cut it with a knife. nash’s knuckles were white as he drove. you chewed on your nails as music played softly in the background. it was too quiet, but neither of you attempted to break the silence.

worry drummed harder in your mind the closer you got to the assigned room. inside, xander sat on an armchair, his leg bouncing. he was still wearing snow pants, but his jacket had been thrown off to the side, revealing a thick fleece. he popped up when he saw his oldest brother, going into a flurry of explanation. “we were just messing around and i thought it would be fun to go higher and grayson- i didn’t think he was gonna get hurt-”

you cut him off, stepping to stand beside nash. “where is he now?”

“the doctor just came by and took him. she said they’re going to wrap his arm.” xander grimaced and motioned for you and nash to sit. the only other spot in the room was the bed, and while nash went to sit with his brother on the arm of the sofa, you hopped up on the side of the mattress.

around thirty minutes later, grayson trudged into the room, looking a little worse for wear. Like xander, he wore snow pants but a white t-shirt underneath the straps instead of something warmer. a cast adorned his left arm, bright blue and ugly. He seemed a little loopy, no doubt an effect of some sort of pain medication he was given.

ignoring his brothers, grayson walked straight towards you and settled himself infront of you. he wrapped his right arm around you, tucking you into his chest. “hey, sweet girl.” he mumbled from above you.

behind him, you could hear nash make some excuse about wanting to speak to a doctor, and then xander’s protests as he was dragged out of the room. 

looking up at grayson, you could see the exhaustion that lined his face. “you gave everyone quite the scare,” you told him.

he hummed thoughtfully, “it’s a very hawthorne thing to do,” he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, admiring it, “i’ll be okay.”

“i know you will, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying,” you grimaced.

grayson sighed, seemingly deciding to table that conversation. he kissed your forehead and asked, "have you eaten lunch yet?” You had that muffin, but it was around noon, and you were starting to get hungry again. you shook your head, and he continued, “didn’t i promise i’d see you before lunch? i wasn’t planning on breaking that.”

with a playful scoff, you peel away from him, “yet you still had to break something… didn’t you?”

-----------------

note: RAHHH TAKE THAT WRITERS BLOCK

anyways!! this was my first fic in about two years so hopefully it wasn't terrible lmao

[pochapal]

gonna be honest i hadn't even really thought about a master key until now. that's...hm.

[skunkes]

[blujayonthewing]

I wish I had any way of knowing whether people have gotten Weirder™ about my name in recent years or if this has been happening behind the scenes the entire time

I've been going by Jay since I was 11. At the time nobody objected to or questioned this, at least not to me; I found out many years later that Jay is supposedly a "boy's name," but nobody ever said 'you can't use that as a nickname, it's a boy's name' and it went completely uncontested by anyone when I switched. Lots of kids announced some manner of name change at the start of a new school year in middle school; it was all normal and fine. My mom and, you know, grandmas and other relatives kept calling me Jessica, which was also fine! I didn't make a big family announcement or correct any relatives on this, I just wanted to differentiate myself from the half dozen other Jessicas in school.

For twenty years!! This has gone on being perfectly normal! My Real Name™ is an increasingly obscure bit of trivia I get to spring on friends who didn't realize I had one, which is always funny (my brother in law didn't believe me and demanded to see my driver's license). My mom and grandmas have largely still called me Jess, and that's also fine! It's nice, even! There's a particular intimacy there of having a name only my mother uses-- but, crucially, I have never asked her not to, or said that I don't like it. And as FAR AS I KNOW, this has all been true and fine for TWENTY YEARS.

My own feelings about it have never changed, and feel, to me, very straightforward: if I tell you that my name is Jay, and you decide that no it isn't, that is a problem. That's the rule. That's literally it. I had a high school teacher who asked on the syllabus for us to write down if we went by something other than our full name, who was nonetheless UNIQUE among all of my teachers from 6th grade onward in always and only ever calling me Jess, even though I signed all my work Jay, all the other teachers called me Jay, he literally asked whether anyone wanted to be called something else and I answered Jay, and I had him for two semesters. I met a work friend of Justin's once who asked upon introduction whether Jay was short for something, and when I told him it was short for Jessica he took it upon himself to call me Jess instead. This isn't me having a problem with any particular iteration of my name, this is just asshole behavior! I told you what my name was and you said 'no it isn't'. The problem here does not seem complex to me?

But within the last [hand wiggle] handful of years I feel like it keeps getting weirder? Apparently my dad and grandma argued about it at my wedding rehearsal-- she, dramatically, insisting 'I don't care, her name is Jessica, I'm going to call her that ;n;' and my dad angrily defensive that no it isn't, I go by Jay, that should be respected. And I'm sitting here listening to my dad relay this in utter bewilderment like. Well dad I love the energy but I have never been bothered at all if grandma calls me Jessica. I have never even once asked her not to or complained to anyone that she does. But also this is the grandma who HAS called me Jay more often than not?? My mom's mom never picked it up, but I was astonished to hear my dad's mom was acting like this was some New Dramatic Change that she Hated and not a thing she's literally already been doing for, again, twenty entire years. Why are you suddenly making it weird! Last weekend Justin's stepmom mentioned seeing my mom at the hospital where mom works, and how she said something like 'yes I'm Jessica's mom-- wait, no, Jay, she hates it when I do that' and I just?? I literally don't, the only problem now is that people who know me won't know who the fuck you're talking about

all of this and I'm just. I am literally just sitting here. why are we inventing problems out of this two decades later. what is going on

[iridescentoracle]

Hello! I am here to ask about your Dior headcanons re: the political cohesion of Doriath. 👀

Oh man, I didn't expect anyone to actually take me up on that!

(Okay so I got partway into writing this and then realized I should probably note up front that I tend to stick to the Silm (& LOTR/the Hobbit where applicable, but they... aren't, here) as the most authoritative version of canon, and I can get into why and where the nuances/exceptions are there (I do say tend to stick, it's not hard and fast!), but that's mostly a side note here: the point is simply that I don't really factor other drafts or the poetic Leithian into my take on Doriath, Thingol, Dior, etc, just what we're told in the actual Silm. I also read the Silm as an in-universe history text compiled by in-universe scholars, who, being people, are going to have their own biases and blind spots, even when they're doing their best to be accurate!)

So, this is a two-part thing: #1, there's the political cohesion of Doriath before & at the time of Thingol's death, which i talked about in the tags of the post that prompted this ask but is kind of necessary as context for the Dior part to make sense, and #2, there's the actual Dior headcanons. Both of these parts are very long because I've never really seen anyone else suggest any of this stuff and I want to explain where I'm coming from thoroughly enough that it actually makes sense to people who aren't me, but the TL;DRs:

TL;DR 1: I think Doriath was probably a hot mess politically after Thingol died, with tensions between various groups of Sindar and Laiquendi in the leadup to Thingol's death & Melian's departure, and more political tensions afterwards between those who wanted Beren & Lúthien to come be the new rulers, and those who thought they should stay gone, with someone still in Doriath taking over.

TL;DR 2: I think Dior became Eluchil, potentially at the request of some portion of the Iathrim, hoping to help prevent Doriath from devolving into civil war, and saw dealing with the Silmaril-Fëanorioni situation as a lower priority than stabilizing Doriath's internal political situation until it was too late.

1. The political cohesion (or rather, lack thereof) in Doriath prior to Thingol's death

So, okay, the thing about Doriath is that we don't actually have any real idea of like... how much the Iathrim liked being the Iathrim? We're never told about any intra-Iathrim conflict, but a) the Silm was probably compiled mostly by surviving Gondolindrim or their descendants, so they wouldn't know about anything liike that unless surviving Iathrim told them, and after the Second Kinslaying I don't imagine many Iathrim would've been eager to talk about how things had actually been tense/messy/etc when they could remember everything as having been perfect until it was ruined by the Fëanorionrim, and doubly so after the Third Kinslaying, so why would anything like that make it into the Silm?

and b) what we do know about Doriath is that it wasn't really Doriath as we know it until Morgoth came back to Middle-earth, and everything went to hell.

At the start of the first age, you suddenly get Doriath (the fenced land!) being the one protected area of a continent that used to be totally free and open. How many Sindar actually didn't particularly care for Thingol's style of leadership, or simply preferred to live nomadic lives, going basically wherever they pleased, until suddenly that wasn't safe anymore, and you were only guaranteed survival if you were close enough to Menegroth to be within the Girdle when it went up? ditto how many Laiquendi had no interest in swearing loyalty to Thingol right after their own king had just been killed, but again, made it to safety and stayed there over taking their chances on their own in the outside world?

I think it's entirely possible that there were always potential political tensions under the surface in Doriath that just... never got written about, because they never boiled over into actual political conflict, and so it was never the sort of tension that had any bearing on the historical record.

Except then Beren & Lúthien happen to the world, and a few years later the Narn, and in the blink of an eye suddenly the only king Doriath has ever had is dead, and the only queen Doriath has ever had is gone and the Girdle with her—and more than that, the only rulers the Sindar had ever had for three thousand years before Doriath existed.

And where a few years earlier I think the Iathrim would probably have turned pretty universally to Lúthien, now she's abandoned them for her human husband—and while she's my favorite character in the entire legendarium hands-down and I don't blame her, I think that's another place there might have actually been some very mixed feelings among the Iathrim that nobody wanted to admit to later because how could anyone have been upset with Lúthien—and on top of her abandoning them for him, I think it's extremely probable most of Doriath did not actually get over their xenophobia about humans in general or Beren in specific when Thingol did (we know for sure at least some of Doriath didn't, cf. Saeros insulting Túrin's mother & sister to his face), but again, who's going to admit to having had a grudge against the holy couple of Middle-earth after the fact, you know?

Conversely, there could've been a sizeable faction of Sindar who had been totally loyal to Thingol until everything happened with Beren & Lúthien, but who found his actions towards them and/or Finrod to be where they drew the line, and while (unlike B&L themselves) that faction stayed in Doriath, there could've been a new, additional tension on that front.

Finally, for all we know there were multiple factions within the Laiquendi of Doriath, with political tensions stretching back to before their king died, rooted in who-even-knows!

2. Dior

All of that, of course, sets up a very, very messy political situation for Dior to walk into.

The Doriath stuff is arguably more speculation than actual headcanon, but here's where the unambiguous headcanons come in: I don't think "Dior Eluchil set himself to raise anew the glory of the kingdom of Doriath." Obviously that's how it got written down, but bluntly, I can't see Beren and Lúthien having a kid that stupid or, like, power-hungry and arrogant?

What I can see is a situation where the messenger that brought word of Thingol's death and Melian's departure asked Beren & Lúthien to come take over as the new king and queen, we promise we're not mad about you leaving and we won't be xenophobic to your husband anymore we swear it's fine now pretty please, Beren & Lúthien said no, and the messenger either asked Dior as a second choice, or said "okay fine none of that was actually true but Doriath is falling apart and we need a leader ASAP and there's about eight different contenders* (mostly kinsmen of Thingol or Laiquendi) being backed by various factions and it's going to devolve into civil war any minute so if you care at all—" and Dior said "would I do?"

(* Ask me about my Galadriel headcanon)

I don't think Dior necessarily wanted to be king of Doriath, and I don't think he saw the throne as his birthright or anything like that; I don't think anyone involved, from Thingol to Lúthien to Dior himself, ever considered the possibility of Thingol dying and needing an heir! I think it's possible he was asked, or at most that he offered, and either way, I think he saw becoming king as taking on a responsibility for the sake of others.

(Which, like, "well here's a potentially impossible task that I'm going to take up even though probably no one thinks I'm actually capable of it, but it's my duty to help others as best I can" sure does sound to me like an attitude one might develop when raised by Lúthien "I kicked Sauron's ass cast a sleep spell on Morgoth and persuaded the Valar to find a loophole in the fabric of reality" Tinuviel and Beren "I stayed by my father's side as an outlaw to give my mother time to lead the rest of our people away hopefully to safety knowing I would never see her or any of them again (and then spent several years being a giant thorn in Morgoth's side for good measure)" Barahirion, where "apparently my grandpa I may or may not have ever met died, guess that makes me the king of a place i may or may not have ever been" does... not.)

I also think he either took on the epithet Eluchil, or was given it by whichever factions of the Iathrim accepted him as king, when he actually became king. Obviously he's going to be referred to as Dior Eluchil even before that in retrospect because that's how he's thought of later, but that doesn't mean it was actually a name he always had, you know?

The final thing is, I think if Dior essentially walked into a political situation five seconds from devolving into civil war, it makes his inaction regarding the Silmaril prior to the Second Kinslaying make more sense: the Fëanorioni have been sitting around doing nothing about the Silmaril in Doriath / with Beren & Lúthien this whole time, the letter saying "hey that's our Silmaril give it back now" is probably just a formality, and Dior's only been ruling for a couple years, there's still plenty of people dubious about whether he should be king at all, he might well be subject to at least some of whatever xenophobia remains about humans in Doriath, and in general all the work he's done on stabilizing the kingdom will absolutely come undone again if he screws up; he's trying to keep a kingdom from falling apart, the Silmaril thing can wait.

Of course, it wasn't a formality, and it couldn't wait, but why would Dior have known that?