Found this in my drafts, for some reason I just didn't post it? I don't even know what I was on when I wrote this but...Yay... I guess?
I just had a theory about the stabbing scene: Melanie wasn't upset he stabbed her instead of himself because it was a silent agreement (note that she asks if they're gone now; she likely realized about the vow as Halligan stabbed her/yelled "The vow is broken").
There is the general opinion outside the fandom that this was done out of selfishness. I would like to argue the opposite. Here's why: Halligan doesn't have great self-preservation instincts, and doesn't seem to have much of a reason to avoid stabbing himself. Remember that Halligan doesn't seem to mind crossing the bridge on a very unstable board, close to falling into the pits of nowhere. Halligan is very reckless. Self-serving, sure, to an extent, but not that much; I mean, he really doesn't have much of a reason to be following through with the case at this point to begin with, remember.
Say what you will about Halligan, but he also listens to Melanie when she tells him something, so it's likely that when she said "Don't you ever do that to me again, Brent!" at Twelve Bridges, he interpreted the "that" to mean "put yourself in danger", and thus decided to TRY to avoid it as much as possible. When Melanie gets upset about what he did at the mansion when he was brainwashed, she only basically says "Don't you ever hit me like that again" if I remember correctly, therefore, stabbing her is...actually fair game in the situation at the end of the game.
Halligan took her words to heart. He doesn't care about the risk to him, he was worried about upsetting her by doing so. Being the way he is, to him there was no sense in thinking about this the standard "self-sacrificial way" here, especially after she said that herself. Melanie is pretty understanding of the Halligan's views, such as when Melanie pleads with Halligan to surrender to Serstan, but when Halligan gives a reason why he won't, Melanie's not upset. She's also a smart lady, and probably saw Halligan's vow thing as a way to escape the situation, even if she didn't know how he would do it. And it's part of the reason why this scene, as crazy as it seems from the outside, can work well from this angle. Neither of them follows the expected rules here, and hey, it works out in the end, doesn't it?
It's also why Melanie didn't take his actions as malicious, even during the initial shock. She herself didn't want him to put himself on the line, and trusted him enough to know what to do after regardless, because she knows that Halligan probably will not just let her die. She doesn't want to be alone, either, and she wants to know he's okay. So really, what I'm saying is: There is a dynamic here that goes unspoken and that is never taken into consideration when analyzing this scene.
I realize this is pretty out there, even by MOTD standards, but it's an interesting take on this probably unintentionally strange sequence.
Do you believe in the theory/headcanon that flug and goldheart are brothers?
super old ask but
I used to believe in it more than I do now. but I am not against it entirely yet.
like if there is a different plot twist to it at the end, I ain't bouta be surprised.
it would be very predictable currently. and that's mainly why I'm suspicious. it's... TOO predictable almost...
especially with Villainous' complex lore, I doubt they'll make any plot piece this easy and obvious. but who knows. maybe that don't matter and is intended to be like this cuz there will be more than enough other plot twists to this arc.
the way Goldheart speaks abt Flug, there's 2 options. he is either Flug's (older?) brother, or he an old best friend turned sour.
same goes for how Flug speaks abt Goldheart in his notes and how he reacts to seeing him on TV, lmao honestly his reaction looks a bit silly childish which would kinda fit a siblings dynamic. the thing is, I'm an only child. so I can't entirely say what the relationship is like, I can't fathom how you typically interact with siblings. but from what I observed around my peers in my childhood that looks on par.
now ppl say that evidence against them being siblings is for example that we found out they have different last names.
I'd not agree that this has to say much.
here's a few scenarios:
• Goldheart has married before. he is either as old as Flug or there's only a few years ±1-3 between them. I kinda think Flug be the younger one idk. so late 20s early 30s, you can easily have married by then.
• they are half brothers. I believe on which side doesn't matter.
• they are not related by blood, just step brothers since a young age. whether one of Flug's parents remarried and that partner already brought an existing child into the relationship too or maybe they even adopted Goldheart also doesn't matter so much.
I actually think the latter 2 options would make the most sense cuz they'd be the most hurtful considering Flug's implied past. imagine your bio parent starts to love their stepchild/adopted child more than you... always compare you to them, even tho you actually objectively achieve more, even tho you were there first, you're their actual flesh and blood. yet you have to prove yourself harder to get even a slither of the same recognition and love.
I would not listen to Gerry (crew member) who said "yeah I heard of that theory, it's always funny when ppl think that" and take that at face value "oh so they debunked it" nah that mf is just playing around. don't listen to nothing he says seriously. he purposely wants to cause chaos and confusion, he always says that.
I mean what else is he supposed to say except lead us on a wrong path, he would never confirm it if it WAS true. he not gonna spoil the story. so I think it's still possible.
EITHER WAY... even if Goldheart is not Flug's brother... it honestly doesn't matter to me at all cuz it's still clearly confirmed that Flug HAS a brother and heavily implied that his relationship to his entire family is very strained. the only anecdotal interaction we know of is that Flug's mom made him dance at prom even tho he didn't rlly want to cuz he can't dance. so his mother sounds like that odd controlling type, I could explain in depth what kind of vibes I get off her. he dreams of begging for her forgiveness and attention in episode 3. he cries at the strained story abt siblings in the Powerpuff orientation video.
if Goldheart is not his brother then that simply means he is only ONE of MULTIPLE grievances/betrayals in Flug's life. smth's wrong with his connection to his brother too. and we haven't even scratched the surface with Goldheart and Heed in his past.
TLDR: I still lean towards it, wouldn't be surprised if it's not true, don't exactly think it's as simple and straight forward as it looks with them being full blood siblings, but either way I don't mind if I'm wrong cuz I am definitely right on the last part. either way Flug don't have a good tie to his brother whoever it is.
some more far-fetched fun fact rambling in the tags
sci-fi set in a future in an intergalactic war facing unknown beings only known as ‘invaders’
when a new code from the enemy is discovered, a poet/linguist/cryptographer is asked to try crack it - but quickly realises it’s a language
she assembles a crew to travel to the war yards to study the language, and discovers that learning it changes the way people think and interact with others
Finally!!! At long last, after many (4) weeks, here's my completed Targaryen family tree! Now, you might notice this doesn't contain LITERALLY EVERYONE, because I had to draw the line somewhere, but I'm so pleased with how it turned out! this project was an absolute blast!
See below for closeups/long winded explanations
The Conquerers
Straight out of the Century of Blood, we have the conquerors. In my mind, old Valyria is analogous to the Roman Empire, the way that Westeros is the British isles. Because of this, you can definitely see the Mediterranean influence on their designs. One thing that isn’t though—I gave Valyrian women these headdresses, sort of mimicking the crests of a dragon. I like the theories about the health of the dragons being linked to the way Targ women are treated, and it seems like the sort of cultural memory that would be honored in their regalia. More ‘masculine’ headpieces are modeled by Aegon and Visenya—sort of these simple diadems.
The Velaryons are based on Byzantines, obviously, but I also took a lot of inspiration from the HOTD show. One thing I wanted to try and challenged myself with was making everyone in this extremely inbred family look different and interesting.
The Conciliator
I feel like the Targaryen’s aren’t quite sure of their place yet here, and I wanted to represent that in the way they dress. Their silhouettes are the same but they’re implementing Andal elements like wimples and *gasp* sleeves. We see an example of the typical Westerosi woman with Jocelyn, she wears an intricately embroidered dress and covers her hair—some Targaryens like Daella have leaned into it and dress in a full Westerosi style.
More daring characters still lean into the Targaryen aesthetic—Aerea, Saera, an Viserra with their more subdued versions of the traditional headpiece and Baelon with his loose tunic.
Side notes: Baelon inherited Aegon’s dragon pin, Alyssa wears Visenya’s earrings, and Rhaena's wearing Rhaenys's necklace.
The Dance of Dragons
Targaryens, now at the height of their power, feel safer engaging in their Valyrian customs—headdresses and tunics are back! But here, fashion choices are used to create a stark divide between greens and blacks.
Where as the Blacks lean into tradition to support Rhaenyra’s claim, the Greens plead their case to the small folk, and dress the part.
Rhaenyra is using fashion as a tool to legitimize herself, she wears Visenya’s earrings and necklace, Alyssa’s necklace (gifted to her by Daemon), and a crown that combines both her mother’s tiara and her father’s crown. Her hair is styled in the short waves of the conquerer, and she’s even added some extra bangles and accents to the traditional headdress.
Alicent, on the other hand, is dressed like the perfect pious Westerosi noblewoman. Her hair, loose (because she isn’t so vain to groom it) and covered with a veil. Her bodice is simple but embroidered, all done by her hand to her industriousness. She also (much to Rhaenyra’s chagrin) inherited Visenya’s crown—refusing the more complicated crowns of Rhaenys and Alyssane. This crown will become thematically significant and Jaehaera wears it too.
Rhaenys inherited Rhaenys’ necklace, I like to imagine it made it down Rhaeny’s 1’s line down to Rhaenys 2, and then she gifted it to her daughter. Daenaera Velaryon wears Alyssa Velaryon's crown.
Embers of the Dance/Great Bastards
No one is particularly keen to flaunt Targaryen uniqueness following the dance—and we see a pretty strong pivot to Westerosi fashions. Aegon III is the only one really holding out for that aesthetic, but none of this kids adopt it.
Larra Rogare of Lys is based on Minoan fashion!
Daena inherits Rhaenys II’s necklace and Baela’s diadem. A little further down the line, Betha Blackwood is wearing Rhaenys II's necklace as well.
We all get our first Dornish characters! Miryah and Dyanna. I wanted Dornish fashion to look especially different from any other familiar fashions, so they’re based in the aesthetics of the Tuareg people.
All of Rhaegal’s family looks a little wacky—I wanted them to not-quite fit in to the rest of Westerosi fashion–with Alys’s unbound unveiled hair, aelora’s dark veil and Aelor’s ruffled collar. Alys did get Alyssane’s necklace though, passed down through the Arryn ladies by Daella.
Mother of Dragons
Here, we see some more westerosi fashion. Nothing particularly crazy in Aegon's kids --- Rhaelle wears Jocelyn Baratheon's necklace. As for Rhaella --- she wears the crown that was originally Visenya's.
I'm doing R+L=J here, not for any statement on the theory, but just cause I wanted to draw Lyanna and Jon. The Starks are based on the aesthetics of the Sami people. If you zoom in really close on Jon, his eyes are a dark, dark purple.
Rhaegar is wearing Westerosi embroidery, but instead of his house colors, he's had little blue flowers stitched around the neckline. Wonder why...
Both Daenerys and Viserys wear Valyrian style tunics, though as Daenerys gains more power, she leans fully into the high valyrian aesthetic. She's wearing earrings that appear identical to Saera Targaryen. Are they the same earrings? Just the same style? Idk, but somehow both ladies ended up in Essos. Her hair is braided in the fashion of the Dothraki, and we finally see the return of the traditional Valyrian headdress, which Daenerys has modified by adding her dragon crown.
A word I'm a big fan of is positionality. As in, the way someone is treated by, perceived as, and moves through the world. It's closely linked to intersectionality in my mind.
A big problem in queer feminist theory in my opinion (in general, not just in the discourse) is a tendency to treat identity labels as positionality in and of themselves. This frequently goes hand in hand with gender essentialism and extremely deepseated cisnormativity. People will take two groups that share an identity, and then use that to transitively map a certain positionality onto one of those groups by comparison. And generally, the cis, binary perspective is the one being imposed on the other. And if you're not watching for it or familiar with the topic, you might not notice the switch, because of how common it is to treat the two concepts as interchangeable.
But they're not. For example, A cis man and a trans man and a bigender man all share the identity of "man," but they each occupy a different positionality in the world. As in, the way other people perceive them and treat them, and the way they act in response to the world, is different. They occupy a different material context.
A lot of theory by and for trans women has already explored and firmly established this idea, in regard to trans and cis women. We have words like transmisogyny to describe how the positionality of being a trans woman or transfem effects, for example, the misogyny a person experiences.
Many people don't extend this to its natural conclusion when it comes to trans men and non-binary people, though, and justify that with a misunderstood definition of intersectionality. Our shared identities with other groups are used to project experiences on to us that are not actually true–and in doing so, to silence us.
This is what someone is doing when they say things like "of course trans men have male privilege, they're men," "trans men aren't the primary targets of misogyny, because they're men," or "as men, trans men are treated better than trans women." These ideas (setting aside for now the exorsexism of how transmascs who are not men get shoved into this categorization) rely on taking a person's identity, in this case, "man," and making it synonymous with the positionality of another group with an overlapping identity, cis men. "This is true of cis men," they say "so it must be true of all men." Identity (a fluid and internal thing that a person expresses via dialogue with society) is subsumed by positionality (the material conditions a person operates in).
And when you point out that none of those arguments are materially true, they meet you with "so you don't believe trans men are men?" Here, the argument is sort of a reverse motte-and-bailey (is there a word for this fallacy more specific than strawman? I'm not sure), taking one statement, that being "trans men do not occupy the same positionality as cis men" and treating it as synonymous with another, "trans men do not share the same identity as cis men." The strong, obviously hard to challenge argument is rhetorically swapped for a strawman that can easily be knocked down, and it's done by merging positionality and identity into interchangeable concepts with a meaning that they can move between as suits them.
Here, we get the "weaponizing your AFABness" and "misgendering yourself" strawmans too. When a trans man says he doesn't have the same experiences as a cis man, he is stating something material, such as "I need to access gynecological care and being a trans man makes that more difficult" or "I'm targeted by misogyny in my everday life because of how people perceive me." Note that the supposed rebuttals I listed are identity based again. To this argument, if you acknowledge a different positionality, you must be admitting to a different identity. In this way, unique transmasculine struggles are erased by folding the entirety of transmasculinity into, and making it subservient to, cis masculinity. Our experiences must be judged first to see if they apply to cis men before we are allowed to talk about them applying to trans men.
This affects non-binary people too in both similar and different ways. In the overlap, you see people taking the existence of non-binary people who also identify as cis to justify the idea that a certain kind of non-binary person is "cissexual" or "has cis privilege," or something to that affect. Similarly, they might isolate a part of a non-binary person's experience (such as using the pronouns associated with the gender enforced on you) and use it to say the same. An overlap, or even a perceived overlap in identity with a binary cis person is seized on to impose a binary cis person's positionality. Again, the purpose is to erase them, to silence discussion of their unique struggles, and to exclude them from community.
Another way this manifests against non-binary people is in forced binarization. A very, very common non-binary experience is the questions that amount to "are you a boy enby, or a girl enby?" and "are you an enby I will assume to have a penis, or an enby I will assume to have a vulva?" People will assign, or at least try to "figure out," which binary identity you're supposedly closest to. And once they've assigned you one, they will map a positionality onto you based on that (typically either that of a binary cis person or a binary trans person). The experiences that are distinct to being non-binary get erased in this collapse of the venn diagram.
A lot of this, I think, stems from oppositional sexism and overconfident assumptions. A member of one group, lacking insider knowledge on another group, takes the shortcut of simply making their best guess based on overlapping or "opposite" groups they assume they already understand. And then, when members of the group they confidently spoke over say "this is not true about us," the person retreats into that overlap to justify themselves. A binary trans man assumes a non-binary transmasc has basically equivalent experiences to his own, or a trans woman assumes trans men are treated better than her because cis men are.
That's where it often starts, at least, but if someone doubles down on this fallacy when confronted, they may start to believe (or act like they believe) in more and more absurd ideas based in positionality and identity as interchangeable concepts. I think this is the stage you see nonsensical arguments like "trans men have privilege over cis women," "trans women are overall more impacted by abortion bans than trans men," and "non-binary people are cis trenders pretending for attention."
This impacts other groups of queer people too, like bisexuals and asexuals for example. This post is already long and I wanted to focus on gender in particular, though. Intersex people as well, but I don't feel personally equipped to explore the examples there, and I'd welcome elaboration from anyone who does.
I feel like we might benefit from a word for this rhetoric. I'm not sure what it would be, and "positionality" is a bit of a mouthful to make affixes out of. It's also closely tied to intersectionality (as it's essentially a denial and replacement of the particular intersection a person occupies with an allegedly-similar one), but that concept is...poorly used, in queer discourse, as it is. I'm a big proponent of the utility of very specific terminology, and feel like especially as people who face so much erasure that we could use more of it.
Positional collapse, maybe? I need to chew on it more.
cw: blood drinking, medical inaccuracies since i’m not a doctor, tension
based in this same vamp!afab!reader verse, to the anon who requested, i hope you enjoy!
You were going to kill Luffy.
Not seriously — you'd had that impulse cataloged and discarded roughly three hundred times since you'd met him, and you suspected it would never actually graduate past a very detailed fantasy. But you were going to think about it extensively while you stood in the corridor of the Polar Tang and reminded yourself that you were an apex predator and therefore above throwing a tantrum about sleeping arrangements.
The submarine was quiet in the way that things only ever happened when everyone aboard had made a conscious, coordinated decision to be somewhere else. Bepo had found you first, which you knew now with the particular clarity of hindsight, was not a coincidence. The polar bear mink had looked at you with those enormous, guileless eyes and said, 'the captain needs help moving some things from the medical bay,' and you had thought, 'of course, fine, a task, something to do with your hands'. You followed him directly into the one room on this ship you had spent the better part of three days avoiding.
Law hadn't even looked up when you walked in, which somehow made it worse.
He was standing at the far end of the exam table, reviewing something on a clipboard, his coat draped over the chair behind him. The room smelled clean and antiseptic and faintly of something warm underneath — the same something that every room on this ship smelled of, that you had been very carefully not thinking about.
Him.
Fourteen crew members. Fourteen steady, distinct rhythms that your body had spent three days logging whether you wanted it to or not, filing each one away with the kind of thoroughness that had kept you alive for longer than anyone aboard this ship would probably believe.
Yet, Law's was the one you'd forced yourself to stop listening to.
It wasn't that it was louder. It was that it was — deliberate, somehow. Controlled. The kind of heart that had been trained into evenness the same way the rest of him had, by someone who understood that a racing pulse was information and information was a liability.
It annoyed you enormously.
"Close the door," he said, still not looking up.
"Where are the supplies?"
"There are no supplies."
You looked at Bepo. Bepo looked at the floor, then at the door. Then, with an apologetic sort of urgency, back at the floor.
"Bepo," you call his name lowly.
"I'm sorry," Bepo said, and left.
The door clicked shut behind him with the soft finality of a trap springing.
Law started small, glad that he now has you after days spent with you in his sub, but carefully avoiding him. After needling Luffy when discussing the next plan for their alliance, he managed to get the other captain to agree to let Law bring you with his crew, under the guise of supplying extra strength support for the Heart Pirates.
In reality, since Law became aware of your secret, he's been dying to get to know more about you. And since he heard how unique the experience of having you feed on them is, he's more than a little interested in having his own experience.
But first, some questions for his own journal.
"Conditional immortality or true immortality? There's a distinction — conditional implies a kill condition exists, which the historical record suggests, but the mechanism is—"
"Law."
"—debated across three separate schools of thought, none of which had access to a living subject, so I'd like to—"
"Law."
"—settle it definitively while I have the opportunity, so if you could just." He waves a hand, gesturing for you to continue while he waits with his pen on an empty journal page.
"What? No."
"Fine then. Estimated total lifespan," he said, in the same tone someone might use to read off a grocery list. "Working theory puts it somewhere in the range of indefinite, but I want a primary source confirmation."
"Don't you know," you said, with the particular sweetness of someone who had been deploying it as a weapon for longer than he'd been alive, "that it's rude to ask a woman her age?"
He stopped and turned, finally, and looked at you — and there it was, that ghost of a smirk, arriving at the corner of his mouth and departing in the span of a breath, restrained by the same discipline that kept everything else about him so carefully measured. It implied he had more where that came from and had made a considered decision to ration it.
"Noted," he said, and turned back to his clipboard. "Sunlight, does it cause full combustion, impaired function, or cosmetic sensitivity only? The accounts conflict."
"I'm leaving."
"You're not leaving; the door is sealed." He turned a page. "Reflections, the mirror aversion — physiological basis or psychological artifact from an era when mirrors were silver-backed? Because silver aversion is well-documented, but the optical component has never been satisfactorily—"
"I have a reflection."
"Interesting." He made a note. An actual note, in that small precise handwriting, like you'd confirmed something he'd had a running bet on. "Running speed. The historical ceiling is documented but I want a controlled measurement, so if you'd be willing to—"
"I will not be willing—"
"Okay, garlic. Objectively. Yes or no."
"It smells bad."
"That's a no with caveats, I'll note that as inconclusive." Another page. "Invitation threshold — is that a hard physiological limitation or is there cultural variation in how the compulsion—"
"I walked onto this ship without being invited."
"You were waved on by Bepo, I'm not sure that counts, he's a mink—"
"It counts."
"—and I'd like to run a controlled—"
"There is nothing to run, I walked onto your ship, Law, I am standing in your medical bay, I have been standing here for—" You checked. "Eleven minutes, none of which have been invited, and you have used all of them to ask me things that are either wrong, outdated, or frankly offensive—"
"The feeding window," he continued, with the serenity of someone who had decided your emotional state was data rather than a deterrent. "Between feedings, what is the minimum interval. Maximum before cognitive or physical degradation begins. I want to know the curve."
"I'm going to degrade you in a moment—"
"Don't tempt me. And the bite specifically." He set the clipboard down and turned fully, folding his arms, and the shift in his attention landed with a different weight. It's sharper, more focused, the way it got when he stopped circling and arrived at the actual point.
"The Straw Hats. All three accounts — Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji — unprompted. Consistent details, unusual enthusiasm. I want to know more. The saliva compound, is it purely analgesic or is there a secondary—"
"Enough."
"—euphoric component, because the behavioral description suggests—"
"I said enough."
You felt it before you could stop it; the red washing in at the edges, the bloodlust arriving like a tide, hot and furious and finished with this. Your eyes shifted. The canines dropped with that slow, familiar ache, and you turned on him with three centuries of accumulated patience finally locating its absolute limit.
He stopped, completely and utterly, like someone had lifted the needle off the record, his clipboard still raised, his eyes gone wide and absolutely, entirely, unguardedly alive.
The silence was total.
You held yourself very still, running the old discipline through its paces. Slow, even, don't reach, the red recedes by sheer stubborn will. It took longer than it should have. It took longer because Law was looking at you with an expression you had never once seen on him, with three days of careful observation, all that controlled architecture completely abandoned in favor of something raw and undisguised.
He looked, for just a moment, like a man who had spent his entire life looking for something and had just found it in the last place he'd thought to check.
The ember that had been sitting quietly in your chest for three days went a degree warmer.
Don't, you told it.
"Your sclera," he said. His voice had gone quiet in a way that would have horrified him if he'd noticed. "Both of them. Full iris shift, I've read accounts, but the—" He stopped, exhaling while his hand was already rising. You let it, too off-balance to object, as his thumb settled beneath your eye with a lightness that felt more like reverence than examination. "The vascularization at the outer corners. Is that permanent or does it only present during the—"
He lifted your upper lip; the sound you made in response was absolutely undignified.
The expression that moved across his face was complicated and warm and gone before it fully arrived. He released you, his hands dropped, but he didn't step back, and the distance between you remained closer than it had any reasonable right to be.
"Retractable," he said, mostly to himself. "Emotional trigger, not involuntary reflex." A pause as his eyes moved over your face with that same focused attention, slower now, less clinical. "The Straw Hats were very descriptive about the bite. Sanji in particular."
"Of course he was," you said.
"He used the word transcendent."
"He's dramatic."
"Zoro said it was the only thing that had ever made him feel like he'd lost a fight and didn't mind." Something in his tone had shifted, still precise, but quieter.
"That's not dramatic. That's specific." His gaze returned to yours, and the brightness in it had settled into something that was asking a question it wasn't quite putting into words yet. "I want to understand you."
You looked at him for a long moment, then you huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. "You do realize," you said, "that I'm the predator between us."
He tilted his head. "Is that a complaint?"
"It's a reminder. Not to go and antagonize the predator and make yourself prey."
"Mm." The ghost of the smirk again, more present this time, and then he did something you were not prepared for.
He moved, shifting his weight with an unhurried ease, and then he was sitting on the edge of the exam table, one hand braced behind him, the other resting loose on his knee.
The repositioning shed whatever remained of the clinical energy and left something else in its place: something comfortable in its own gravity, taking up space as if it were entitled to it without being loud about it. His coat was still off, allowing your eyes to trace the tattoos that ran the length of his forearms, dark against his skin. He watched you from under the fall of his hair with an expression that was calm and intent and not remotely as detached as he usually managed.
He looked, in other words, extremely good, and he knew it.
"Are you trying to say," he said, "that you want a bite of me?"
"That's not! I didn't say—"
"Only for science," he said, "of course."
Then he lifted his right hand, and with his audacity, he showed you.
Not with words, he'd used enough of those. His fingers moved to the inside of his wrist first, two fingertips pressing lightly against the skin there, tracing the faint blue suggestion of the vein beneath with a slowness that felt entirely deliberate. Up the pale inside of his forearm, following the line of it, unhurried, the tattoos shifting with the movement. He turned his arm slightly as he went, giving you the angle, like he was walking you through an anatomy lesson, except that nothing about the quality of his attention made it feel like a lesson. His fingers climbed to the soft bend of his elbow, pressed there for a moment, then continued, tracing the inside of his upper arm until his hand arrived at his own throat, fingertips resting at the pulse point just below his jaw.
He held it there; his eyes stayed on yours the entire time.
"So," he said, quietly, the smirk was gone, replaced by something more honest and considerably more dangerous. "Where's the best place?"
The question had been rhetorical; you both knew that. He had just answered it himself, with his own hands, mapping himself out for you like a territory he'd already decided to offer.
Your mouth had gone dry somewhere around the elbow.
"What?" you ask. The word came out hoarse, smaller than you intended, and his eyes tracked the shift in your voice with that same focused precision he gave everything.
"I'm interested in knowing what your bite feels like." He continues, utterly composed. "Seems the 'monster trio' has been generous with their reviews. I prefer primary sources."
His hand dropped from his throat to rest back on his knee, easy, unhurried, like he hadn't just shifted your attention completely. "We're losing time since you spent half the journey avoiding me." A pause as something released quietly beneath the words, but your supernatural hearing allowed you to get, "Unfortunately."
He pushed his sleeve the rest of the way up and looked at you. Patient and open, the dare so quiet it barely registered as one, just the steady weight of his attention and his pulse and his arm resting palm-up across his knee, waiting.
Your feet moved before your better judgment caught up.
"The wrist," you said. Your voice had returned to something functional, though it cost you. "For the first time at least. The vein sits closer to the surface, so it's easier to control the volume. Less risk."
"Risk to me or to you?"
You met his eyes. "Both. If I'm not careful—" You stopped. Started again, quieter. "I'm always careful. I want you to know that. It's been years since I—"
"I know," he said. The steadiness in it was different from the evenness you'd been cataloging for three days; warmer, more personal, carrying something he wasn't bothering to conceal anymore. "Come here."
You got closer. The distance closed by degrees, and when you were close enough, you took his wrist in both hands carefully, the way you always did, grounded. You felt his pulse jump once against your fingertips.
"There's a compound," you said, keeping your eyes on the vein, giving yourself something precise to focus on that wasn't his face. "In my saliva. Mild analgesic effect. If I'm careful, you won't feel—"
"I'm familiar with how anesthetics work," he said, and the dryness in it held something warm underneath.
"Right," you said. "Of course you do."
A beat of silence. You're now intensely focused on the sound of his heartbeat, slowly but starting to beat faster.
"Does it always work?" he asked. "The numbing."
"For them, yes." You paused. "It takes more concentration to ensure they feel nothing when I—" You stopped.
"When you care about not hurting them," he finished.
You didn't answer, and he didn't push. You brought his wrist up. The last thing you registered before your focus narrowed entirely, was his other hand lifting slowly, giving you time to see it coming before settling at the back of your head. His thumb resting at the base of your skull, the warmth of it a steady point of contact that was somehow more disarming than everything else he'd done combined.
"Go ahead," he said quietly.
Your eyes turned red as your fangs dropped down, and you bit down with no further hesitation.
The sound he made was low and immediate and not entirely composed, something that started controlled and didn't entirely stay that way. His hand tightened at your nape — not hard, just present, deliberate, and warm.
You felt his heartbeat through your fingertips and your mouth simultaneously, that controlled rhythm responding now in ways that had nothing clinical about them, and the ember in your chest that had been sitting there since the moment he'd first touched your face went several degrees warmer all at once.
"Good," he murmured, barely sound at all, directed at the crown of your head like he hadn't quite decided to say it aloud.
You pulled back, your thumb pressing to the small mark. You didn't look up immediately, because you needed one moment — just one — before you had to be composed again.
His pulse was running faster. Measurably, undeniably faster.
"Well?" you said.
He was quiet for a beat, so you looked up.
Whatever his expression was, he hadn't rearranged it. The brightness was still there, open and unguarded, and underneath it something slower and more certain that he wasn't bothering to hide. He looked at you the way he'd looked at the shift in your eyes; like you were the most interesting thing he had encountered in a very long time, except that this was warmer and considerably more deliberate.
"Fascinating," he said.
You laughed. real one, short and slightly helpless, surprised out of you entirely, and something in his expression shifted at the sound of it in a way he definitely didn't realize was visible.
"You're going to be insufferable about this," you said.
"Mmh, I have follow-up questions." He says, his hand moving from the back of your neck to cup your face, thumb picking up the remainder of his blood from your lips.
"Of course you do." You respond, fondness coming out despite your best wishes.
"I'd like to schedule—"
"Law."
"Tomorrow," he said simply. "We still have three more days." He glanced down at his wrist, at your thumb still pressed to his pulse point, and made no move to reclaim it. His voice dropped, quiet and even. "I'd like to make better use of them."
You shared a glance, unhurried and certain. That ghost of a smirk present at the very edge of his mouth, like he already knew what you were going to say and was simply extending you the courtesy of saying it yourself.
"Fine," you said.
His heartbeat answered you before he did.
a/n: i fear the power this man has over me, not gonna lie. but i'm not mad about it, lmao!
this was in my drafts and finally got over it to post thanks someone encouraging me to let loose number 24!
as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! i love you very much, here’s a kiss from me to you 😘
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man, this whole WSQK radio thing really does read like a love letter to the most media literate and "delusional" group of the stranger things fandom. bylers.
we get made fun of so fucking much for "looking too deeply" into things, whether it be noticing the (intentional, mind you) set design choices on the show, or the costuming of characters, or the parallels between different pairings, but y'know what? our ability to pay close attention to those kinds of details is a genuine gift.
genuinely, who else is listening to the WSQK radio and picking it apart line by line, song by song like us? definitely not the m*levens or the general audience. it's us. it's always been us. the duffers and the rest of the team definitely know this, they know we pick apart the lighting, the color grading, the soundtrack, the cinematography, like no one else. this is for us.
of course, not every byler fan is thinking of or writes detailed theories on the set design or dissects the cinematography of each scene, but in general, i'd say an average byler fan either grows to have (or already has) a genuine appreciation for these sorts of cinematic details because of the people that do write the theories, the people that do analyze the cinematography, whether it be separate from or in relation to byler. wherever bylers exist, there are people reading or watching said theories, and in turn, unintentionally or intentionally gaining an appreciation for it.
i truly do think a lot of these neat detailed aspects of the show would go way more unnoticed if we weren't around dissecting every inch of it. yes, stranger things has a lot of super fans that pick apart the show that aren't bylers, but i don't know, i think we give a unique to it. a unique flavor you might even call homosexuality, that gives us the ability to pick up on the more subtle (queer) subtext that these fans tend to miss. we have the eyes for it, they don't.
by the way, i'm not saying that because we appreciate the show in a different (more gay) way, that it means no one else appreciates it on a comparable level, but god, do i love byler spaces.
it really does feel like i can fly here, in a space without rampant heteronormativity, where being delusional is a good thing, where little details matter. where we can go crazy together.
sorry but i am SO deeply tired of the 'aphobia isnt real' arguments because they are literally always being conducted in such bad faith. NO there is not specific societal or legal discrimation against aces and aros BECAUSE we are asexual and or aromantic. you cannot hold specifically bigoted beliefs towards a group you do not even know exist. there ARE, however, underlying and deeply pervasive systems and beliefs that actively erase, dehumanise and make life tangibly more difficult for aro and ace people on a social, economic and legal basis. most of this is due to hyperinvisibility, the medicalisation of any nonnormative + misunderstood orientations, the elevation of romance + romantic structures as the most important aspects of interpersonal relationships in society, as well as the nuclear atomisation of the family. among other things. like. amatonormativity has never been ABOUT aromantic people specfically oh my GOD. its simply the underlying social belief that everyone is expected to be in monogamous romantic relationships and that those relationships are expected to the default centre of one's life. its something that affects EVERYONE! but within that it affects aromantic people in a specific and heightened way because of our inability to participate in it in a societally acceptable way. like these are not 'aromantic' or 'asexual' or 'polyamorous' issues specifically. these are theories and terms that originated within feminist + queer sociology studies! its all part of the wider underlying social fabric! aspec people are simply pointing out that we are often affected by these things in unique and often unseen ways.
the idea that we believe people actively 'hate' us for being asexual or aromantic is completely ridiculous. most people i know do not even know the definition of those words! so how could they hate me for it. they could however, for example, hold the pervasive + societally unchallenged belief that not experiencing sexual or romantic attraction is a medical issue or something concerningly abnormal in a human being + something i should get fixed. and its not uncommon that when you DO explain that its simply your orientation to them, they continue to medicalise it and see it as some sort of issue. genuinely so deeply tired of having to explain this to people time and time again when they only want to cherry pick the most ridiculous arguments to respond to and then act as if that's a majority held opinion in the aspec community. like i actually think we are aware of how society views us we're not fucking deluded and stupid. we don't have victim complexes we are just pointing out facts that yall are so desperate to ignore. UGHHHHH
