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novembermorgon · 2 months

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Op i desperately need to know about your bolton oc(s) for they are beginning to haunt my waking dreams 🙏 i humbly ask for your intel 🙏

FIRST OFF … thank you so much for the interest ive been really rotating them in my brain lately so it means a lot to hear you like them (ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘)

i originally made them for funsies last year for a fic i didnt end up writing but i've gotten back into the swing of it so when i figure out how to put a story together i'll put it out there . for now... > here's a proper doodle of their fits i put together .

their names are ysabel and cayn bolton - their parents are maisie manderly and alaric bolton ( x ) . cayn is ~20 and ysabel is a few years younger but don't ask me about specifics because i ...... <3 haven't figured the timeline out yet .

ysabel is a severe case of troubled youth as a result of being raised in a household that centers its identity around the concept of flaying people . their dad is kind of balls off the wall nutso and insists very early on that both his kids have to uphold their family history and identity which leads to both of them being exposed to excessive violence before they really should have been and it definitely gets to her the most . at the core she's kind of squishy and more delicate than you'd imagine from the horrendous dead stare she has > growing up she definitely struggled more than cayn to deal with growing up in the environment she did > she has frequent delusions of what is basically a reanimated skin of a man that follows her around and gets in the way when she's especially stressed out . physical representation of the terror of her father's ambition and actions etc

she's kind of quiet and weird and doesn't have many friends aside from her brother but she IS very polite and well-mannered as is expected of a noble lady . very influenced by having a manderly mother in that she leans a little more into expectations of women as framed by the faith of the seven . likes poetry and embroidery and whatever else she's been told to like and is determined not to step outside her box of expectation . eventually spirals into further delusion of the religious kind when she gets to king's landing and things start to devolve politically > the spiral and downfall of what being a proper lady in medieval society means . her first encounter with aemond targaryen is in the king's landing gardens where she thinks he's about to attack her so she bites a chunk out of his neck so do with that as you will

cayn on the other hand is by all accounts outwardly pretty Normal . he's charming and an open book and very easy to get along with if you can disregard the ever lingering Blue Eyed Stare . being the oldest son just like ysabel he has a very specific set of expectations put on him but in a very different way . should uphold a clear image of being like his dad and learns to fight and hunt and rule but it all ends up being very fake . you look him in the eye while you chat about northern alliances and how to make sure this and that lord is satisfied and hes smiling but there is nothing behind those damn eyes .

definitely does not help that ... he IS a homosexual <3 both of them are meant to be people who put up very firm appearances of being well-adjusted, matching expectations essentially perfectly - only to have those expectations torn down entirely when they're strained enough . going to sound like a fucking insane thing to say but cayn to me is very medieval patrick bateman - in the sense that he's obsessed with appearances and what others think of him, but it's all just a means of covering up the fact that he is 2 seconds away from snapping and killing someone or himself at all times . i have all the characteristics of a human being: flesh, blood, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. something horrible is happening inside of me and i don't know why. my nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. i feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip etc, if you will .

the plot here is a little lost on me because i havent written it all out yet and i cant keep information in my mind for longer than a second but it's essentially dance of the dragons but if i took all the events and scrambled them around and made it completely different . ´･ᴗ･` more book-focused than show-focused at least in terms of the characterization of people like aemond and alicent (i like when they're a little meaner and more crude . my bad ...)

before the war begins - the greens plot away, realizing viserys is not going to name aegon heir even as his health worsens and tensions become more apparent at court. more political action is taken here with the starks declaring for rhaenyra in any matters of succession much earlier - working counter to this is a little already-formed cluster of northern houses that kind of band together under the boltons with the help of some marriage ties and general disagreements with the starks (ie ysabel + cayn's dad is married to a manderly, cayn eventually gets betrothed to a karstark before the starks can snap them up a generation later as they do in canon). with the north kind of silently divided the greens reach out with the intent to form an alliance there with the promise that the boltons will be given the spot as wardens of the north when the war eventually ends knowing full well when viserys kicks the bucket things are going to spiral without question . they accept and head down south - which obviously makes for even more tensions considering they're still stark bannermen . everyone is a little bit or more than a little bit mad at each other and viserys dies and things spiral as usual .

ysabel marries aemond to secure that northern alliance , goes to storms end and promises daeron + lands and wealth to make up for the fact he can't marry one of borros daughters himself, lucerys dies etc and well ........... i need to iron out some wrinkles . <3

as for their relationships obviously as mentioned ysabel marries aemond and its Weird . she really likes him but in a weird almost obsessive way . watches him from afar before they even get introduced officially and sits awake at night and stares at him and i think part of it is because she doesn't know how to approach . wants to be affectionate and loving but also wants things to be on her own terms while also knowing that the circumstances (WAR) doesn't allow for that to the extent she wants so she's at a loss at what to do . which manifests in Being strange . with both these relationships there's a touch of strange hunter prey dynamics and here its definitely more laid back than with cayn and aegon . you watch from afar but never strike . you learn someone's patterns and habits and the threat of having that used against you is always present but te tension only ever builds and never comes to a peak .

because ysabel is very tall and slender and kind of gangly she struggles a lot with pregnancy and when they eventually do have a child it's a girl . which she's intensely conflicted about . you have a child put in your arms and theres a moment of complete joy that turns just as quickly into horror because she believes so firmly that a son would have been what makes her husband and her family happier . sort of anne boelyn esque . she ends up with health issues and a line of lost pregnancies after that before having a son who is incredibly weak and sickly and doesn't make it into adulthood . horrorshow in the capital here

cayn and aegon ........... scratches my chin. on account of being gay in westeros it's obviously very different . aegon is married and cayn is betrothed and still i think cayn meets him and it's a case of well i will die before i give up being able to be with you . they're kind of similar on the surface in that they bond over sort of skipping out on court duties and prefer to spend time out in king's landing . a lot of watching aegon give out his attention to others freely and getting nothing in return (because shockingly you have to initiate sometimes instead of staring at someone you like longingly and looking like a creep) . again that sense of not knowing how to approach just like ysabel . a slow buildup of shared glances and mutual want that you both know will never be okay to anyone but the two of you . cayn wants to hunt and kill him and tear him apart and make out sloppy with him because it's all he can do to show that affection . violence in place of love in a society that would never accept your happiness .

when that hurdle of Figuring out they're both a little homo for each other is crossed they're definitely more direct than ysabel and aemond . very heavy handed physical affection moreso than verbal or emotional signs. rip at each others flesh but never express all the things you'd do for each other . share desperate fumbling kisses in some back alley but don't begin to think about what it might be like to run off and never be seen again or how differently youd be able to see each other if one of you happened to be a woman . i <3 medieval homosexuality !

THAT'S ABOUT ALL. sorry this was a whole load of nothing but i loved getting to ramble about them . final notes are some design pointers

the little eyes on the necklace ysabel wears + the eye on the armour design i did for cayn is meant to be similar to 18th century lover's eye jewelry! : -) essentially a form of affection in literally carrying a lover's gaze with you . i think it's very bolton esque

cayn has a little gold ring to tie back to aegon . and the earring is meant to look like a drop of blood

the armour is his dad's . he dies like halfway through the war and i think it's very telling to have the deeply imperfect son don his dad's fit after he dies . bad fathers who haunt their children etc

he does go off to fight in the war as well hence the scars and the hair . loses parts of his arm as well as parts of his face (lip + his eye is injured so he doesn't see very well) . unfortunately the rat tail had to go but it pains me as well

the white gown instead of black for mourning i think was mostly just for aesthetics (tough to fit with the dark background) but also has SOME intent behind it . atp ysabel ends up barely existing as a person properly as per what war does to someone especially when they're already struggling - it's meant to be a nightgown because she rarely gets dressed beyond that . white was also historically a mourning colour in specific countries in specific eras of history and i do really like that . gives sort of sad miserable ghost in the castle vibes idk

#aghh much longer than i meant it to be but this is the only place i have anything summarized for them so i guess its ok #thank u again for the interest <3 #oc tag #txt #asks #asoiaf #asoiaf oc

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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

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Just A Second / Tommy Miller Imagine

Request: Just saw your post about Tommy requests!! Could you please please please write something with him and Joel doing some construction work for the reader and Tommy’s barely working for flirting with the reader instead? Thank you so much 💜

Awww please this is too sweet I love it!!

Also sorry I’ve included ma’am, if you’d like it to be g/n please let me know and I’ll change it/ post a separate one without it!

If you enjoy this one, please let me know as it really does help to keep me creating, and please send in your own ideas for the Last of Us!!

Warning: some language and sexual allusions!

(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @acecroft.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Joel didn’t think his sighs could get any louder, but he was about to prove himself wrong.

From where he’s leaning hands and knees on the floor, pulling up old patches of fraying moth-damaged cream carpet by himself, he has an extraordinarily good view of his brother. He peers underneath the side of his elbow and emits a sigh loud enough to be heard in the high heavens at the state of him. Ever since the two of them had signed onto this minor contract a few days ago, the man had hounded your side like a panting dog every chance he got. Even now, more than six hours into his workday, he was leaning as flirtatiously as he could against your kitchen doorway, letting out one of his ‘charming’ throaty laughs at something you had said. With his boot resting against the frame, and his hips pushed out so the top of his back is slammed awkwardly against the wall, he looks as if he’s holding the whole world in the palms of his hands.

As bitter as Joel wants to feel, the resentment can’t quite reach the inner chords of his heart. The Miller brothers were notoriously terrible when it came to love: with his wife gone, and Tommy often away too often for romance to even come into the picture, most nights usually ended with Sarah sandwiched between uncle Tommy and Joel on the sofa, the three of them watching cheesy 80s action movies and sharing round a carton of ice cream. Tommy had never been one for really getting onto the dating scene, but by god had Joel never seen his brother look so delirious. So giddy. So lovestruck. In all honesty, it kind of scared him. It was the same overjoyed look he had when he held Sarah for the first time: that same hopeful glint that seemed to drown him from the inside out, the kind that promised nothing else in life would ever matter as long as he got to love this person till the end of time. It was thrilling, and electrifying but also overpowering. All consuming.

He supposes he just doesn’t want to see his brother hurt if he ever loses that look.

The sweat beads on his forehead as his face contorts and he comes back to himself, cursing his brother with all the chance words he could think of in his head. He swears to god, he doesn’t think Tommy has even looked anywhere except at your eyes, or down to your lips and back, within the last hour or two. Every single time Joel quickly jogged past to chug some water and get back to it, or to rummage through the tool box to find the right size nail, Tommy would swat his brother in the stomach if he thought his mouth was opening to interrupt him. Joel sighs again when he looks up at the clock hanging up on the wall at the start of the staircase, nestled in between slightly crooked pictures of you, and what he could only guess to be your family, on holiday at some shore. The hands read 3:15.

‘Shit’, he murmurs to himself. He bites his bottom lip as he speeds up, fast enough that his fingers start to shake red with the effort. ‘If I’m late to pick up Sarah one more damn time she might just move in with those nutso neighbours. At least they got cookies. All I’m bringing home is a dumbass.’

Sadly for Joel, you had retreated back towards the front door to collect the mail, leaving Tommy alone and swinging his wrench around in his hand for a moment. For a second, he was too busy smiling giddily to himself and watching the back of your head walking away to notice the fuming sentiments of his brother. Only for a second, though.

‘Hey, I can hear you!’

Joel waves a hand at him, leaning back to rest on the heels of his feet. ‘Oh, spare me- if I have to hear one more damn joke about how you spend your days doubled over and ‘drenched in sweat’’, he brandishes the crowbar he’s using generally towards his brother, whose hands are out at his sides in mock outrage, ‘I swear I might just lose my goddamn mind.’

‘Far too late for that’, Tommy manages to mutter to himself. The suave fudger, as soon as he sees you turn back towards him the mockingly bitter look on his face is straight back into the sunniest smile, bright enough to rival the warm glow of a thousand fireflies on a blooming spring night. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand.

‘Well ma’am, as I was saying, this here you see... uh, this one here is a pry bar. If you get it in there it can, uh, it can really remove the trim, but you got to get right there - right in the action. Right down on your knees, down and dirty with it-’

Joel tears up another edge of the carpet a little too roughly, and both your heads swivel round to look at him: yours, a curious glance, as if you’d forgotten he was there. Tommy’s was more of a... well, let’s just say, it was more of a stern glare than a brotherly look. Joel ignores him, shaking his head and leaning back down heavily on his knees to shake his wrists out.

‘Tommy, you wanna give me a hand here?’

‘Uh... yeah, in just a second. Anyway, if you want me to teach you how to use this thing and save a little money in the future with some good ol’ fashioned DIY, I’m sure I have a second or two-’

‘Yeah, just a second is right. Tommy, we gotta go. Excuse us ma’am.’ Joel stands and makes to tap at the watch on his wrist, looking down in confusion at the bare skin, forgetting for a moment that he had left on his bed side table last night as it had begun to run slow. He clicks his tongue, walking over to his brother to grab his arm and nearly haul the poor dopey fool away from your side. He manages to shake him off, not wasting any time in coming to linger in front of you again; his chest puffs out, rising with a sombre breath past the edges of his rust coloured denim shirt, as if he’s about to say something desperate. Yet the words seem to catch him in the back of his throat, jamming up and trying to claw their tendrils out past his teeth, and yet he just freezes. For the first time in his life, he looks terrified as he stands there with mouth agape and whiskey eyes widening in front of your bewildered face. In the end, he seems to droop, and instead resigns himself back to a night of sitting up with Sarah and Joel if he was lucky, or out prowling around the downtown area if he still felt so disconsolate and out of sorts.

‘Well, some other time then ma’am.’ He smiles fondly down at you, wistfulness in every word despite not having even left your line of sight yet. He tips his head down in a courteous, yet sorrow filled half nod before he tries to saunter nonchalantly over to join his brother in collecting up all the tools he had barely even touched that day. Joel manages to stack up his boxes into the cradles of his arms before his brother’s even done talking, and is already heading off towards the door with a final nod goodbye at you; whether he was really done first, or his brother was just lollygagging to spend more time with you, well - oh heck, he knew rightly Tommy was dawdling around, pretending to fiddle with a few wrenches and checking his measuring tape was still extending just because he didn’t want to leave your company. If he couldn’t muster the courage to just ask you out right there and then, well, maybe luck would find some other way for these things to come about.

Eventually, though, he did have to leave, if only to stop Joel from honking the truck horn for the hundredth time. He seems to be leaning on the horn now, and even you were peering anxiously outside and scanning your neighbours’ houses to see if any waving fists had erupted from front doors yet. Taking the queue, he heads to make out, but before his foot can even step onto your porch you’ve run up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Mr Miller! Mr Miller! Wait a second- please!’

Joel can’t see much from where he’s leaning against the steering wheel; from what he can gather, you seem to have gripped onto his brother’s shoulder and turned him back around to face you. He looks surprised, but it takes pretty minimal persuasion for hun to be led back to your torso. Without letting go of the bunched fist against his bicep, you seem to be shoving a folded note into his hand, and Joel snickers at the way Tommy pounces on the opportunity to run his pointer finger delicately up and down your open palm. You whisper something, and he nods so enthusiastically Joel’s sure his bobble-head is about to snap off.

Before he can blow the horn again, you really manage to surprise the heck out of both Miller brothers. Stepping up on your tippy toes, you press a quick kiss against Tommy’s cheek, before shyly letting him go and shoving him back out onto the porch. He pretends to trip over his feet, legs crossing as he dreamily parades down the front steps. His eyes roll back in his head as the rest of his body flushes, his hands coming up to rest against his vest where he heart lies: to anybody else, his reaction may look a little ostentatious, but Joel knows it’s as real as day. When Tommy Miller gives his heart away, even past the little teasing and flirting, he really does give his whole damn heart away. And it looks like you’ve got his caged up all nice and tightly, burning to charcoals in your hands.

He clambers into the car, waving a crumpled piece of paper in his hand with your phone number printed on it. As he slides in, bucking his belt up and fidgeting his shoulders back into the seat, he licks his bottom lip and whistles lowly through his teeth.

‘I have a date tomorrow.’ Joel scoffs, busy fiddling with the gears to even notice the flash of anger that quickly passes through his otherwise euphoric looking brother. He looks forward, taking one last glance towards your house and waving cheerfully as he spots you lingering near the front door. ‘On your birthday too. Huh, guess I might be too busy seeing my girlfriend to come to your surprise party’, he jests with a wink at his older brother, clipping in his seat belt and snorting through one nostril.

‘Okay - one, she’s not your girlfriend yet buckaroo, calm down.’ Joel rolls his eyes at the childlike glee that brightens his brother’s face at the word ‘girlfriend’ and turns the ignition. ‘And two, I have a surprise party?’

‘Well I haven’t planned anything, since you’re not five years old, but I’m sure Sarah’s doing something. Poor kid really loves your pissy ass, you know that?’

‘Yeah, I know’, he sighs out, beginning to reverse. He flicks up pieces of gravel from your driveway as the two of them slowly begin to recede into the distance.

‘Damn, that just reminds me, you really are goddamned old now. You’re getting so wrinkled, next year they’re gonna ‘ave to put you on display in some kind of museum for extinct dinosaurs.’

Joel scoffs as he turns his attention away from the road behind his headrest to stare incredulously at his brother. ‘All dinosaurs are extinct, dumbass. You’re pretty god damn stupid, you know that?’

‘Well you only know ‘cause Sarah told you-’

You can’t help but let out a bursting laugh as you watch the two of them go parading off into the wispy tendrils of the auburn sunset; the car has begun to stall as the two respectable workmen are too busy slapping each other’s shoulders across their seats like toddlers to notice.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #tommy miller #tommy miller imagine #joel miller imagine #tlou hbo #tommy miller x reader #the last of us imagine #tlou imagine #the last of us hbo #tommy miller fluff #gabriel luna #tommy tlou #tommy the last of us #sarah miller #x reader

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