#apply to whomever though

[jewishjeffmoreau]

i bring a sort of "this character who has no relation to judaism in canon whatsoever is jewish" vibe to every conversation i have

#this post is specifically about jeffrey joker moreau from mass effect. baseball hat wearing mensch. kvetches like nobody's business. #apply to whomever though #jumblr #mass effect #??? i guess. this is about a character from the games.

[plussizeficchick]

The Weekend | Eren x Chubby!Reader

Summary; Eren and Mikasa have been “dating” and while reader originally had no interest in him, the way Mikasa’s been acting sure does make him look more appealing ;)

Warnings; Smut, “cheating”(they’re not explicitly boyfriend and girlfriend), College AU! P in V, cunnilingus, cum eating, slight breeding kink, Mikasa and Historia are pick me’s and terrible friends lol. Loosely based on the song by SZA(might make a part 2 idkk, not proofread) PART 2

It was a bit difficult making friends at your University. For the most part, everyone had their set friend group so you knew it wouldn’t be easy finding people to hang out with during this new semester. 

That’s why you were glad to meet Mikasa and Historia. 

They were both in your Sociology class at Eldia University and they were having a bit of trouble when you offered help. They were nice, though they could be a bit catty. They introduced you to their other friends so you thought they were nice enough, but you noticed a change when they were around the guys. 

They would make offhand comments about your figure, your outfits, sometimes your attitude. It was off putting, to put it lightly. So, you’re thicker than the two of them, so what? It shouldn’t affect them. And while they may be comfortable suffering in silence, you were definitely going to speak up when you felt like it.

You were certain it was jealousy. The way they spluttered when you asked them to elaborate, the way they flustered when you mentioned that maybe they just couldn’t pull off plus-sized the way you could, had you feeling vindicated. And the way the boys always seemed to laugh at your jokes had them blatantly envious.

It was a bit pathetic to witness sometimes, the way guys would defend you from their “playful jabs” had thinly veiled sneers etching onto their faces.

— —

It was clear to everyone Mikasa had a thing for Eren and while you thought he was attractive, you could see him being more suited for her. And if the way he casually draped his arm around her shoulder meant anything, you’d say he thought the same. You were sure that she was his type, so she didn’t have anything to worry about.

That’s why it was such a shock when Historia told you she’d slept with him.

“I mean, if he really wanted her, they’d be together already, y’know.” She casually dropped the bomb when it was just the two of you. She was so blasé about it, applying her lipgloss as she made you promise not to say anything, throwing in a thinly veiled threat, “I mean, it’s not like anyone would believe you anyway. Plus, you don’t want to be by yourself, right?” 

It wasn’t so much the threat that made you keep your mouth closed, honestly, you had more morals than that, it was more so Mikasa’s attitude toward the hypothetical.

Throughout your entire “friendship” with the two girls, they’d always seen you as a non-factor. When you’d go to parties, they’d flirt with whomever showed even the slightest bit of interest in you and whenever you’d bring it up, they’d just gaslight you. “If he was really interested, then he wouldn’t have gotten distracted, would he?” And for the longest time, you had explained away their behavior because, yeah, you don’t want a guy that’ll easily stray, but, fuck. If it didn’t piss you off.

You’d originally wanted to tell her in a roundabout way, asking how she would feel if one of her friends were interested in Eren. Her answer, however, caused an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach. “Like who? Historia doesn’t see him like that and no offense, but you know Eren wouldn’t like someone like you.” That got you to thinking.

They think I’m a joke.

You wanted to tell Mikasa. You wanted to tell her when she spent nights crying to you and Historia about how Eren doesn’t open up to her anymore, how she felt he was slipping away.

You wanted to tell her what Eren really thought of her. The way he spent some nights ranting about how he felt obligated to date her, that sometimes he thinks of her as a fucking nuisance, like a snake that keeps coiling around his neck, suffocating. The times he’d wished she’d just take a fucking hint and get that he didn’t see a future with her.

You wanted to tell her about all the times Eren flirted with you, told you not to listen to any of her comments because, yeah, she could never pull off looking as good as you do. The times when he’d purposefully walk behind you, gripping at your soft waist and brushing his clothed cock against your ass, making sure you can really feel the length of him.

You wanted to tell her that even though she might be “dating” him, he was always coming back to your dorm late at night, hiking up his shirt around your waist and pressing his face into your chubby pussy, tonguing at your walls and pulling wave after wave of pleasure from you. That even though Historia may have had him that one time, he’s with you damn near every weekend, playing house.

— —

You’re on all fours, your back arched perfectly to make the glide of Eren’s cock in your sopping cunt that much easier. “Fuck, baby. You’re g’nna make me cum.” He grits out, teeth clenched. You’re squeezing him like a vice, your pussy creaming around his dick so deliciously he can taste the orgasm on his tongue.

He’ll never get tired of this, he’ll never get over how perfect your pussy molds for his cock, the velvety feeling of your cunt clenching around him. He’s panting, sweat dripping from his forehead before landing on the deep arch in your back, trickling down. Fuck, he just wants to devour you all over again.

“‘Ren, g’nna cum.” You moan for him, fuck, your voice is so fucking cute, the way your voice gets all high and whiny, has his cock throbbing inside you. “Cum f’me, pretty. Make a mess f’me.” He groans out. 

It’s embarrassing, the way your pussy squelches as he fucks into you. He fashions your hair into a makeshift ponytail before pulling, bringing your back flush against his chest. His hands are everywhere, groping and pawing at your soft flesh. 

He picks up the tempo of his thrusts, cock slamming into your warm, gushy center. He’s whining in your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, but it’s not until you hear him mumble about fucking a baby into you that you cum around his cock for the nth time that day. Your orgasm triggers his and before long his cock is pulsing as he fills you full of him.

You’re both panting as you slowly come down from your highs, Eren slowly removing his cock from your abused cunt and the sight of your poor battered pussy has Eren feeling a bit.. peckish.

You’re too busy catching your breath to notice Eren kissing along your spent body, only letting out a surprised yelp when you feel his hands spreading your cheeks and licking a bold stripe up your center. 

You gasp as he eats you out like a man starved, slurping up your combined essence before sucking on your clit. His hands grope the flesh of your ass, occasionally leaving a bruising spank to each side. 

He’s practically making out your cunt, tonguing at the soft flesh and pressing wet kisses to your clit before lapping at the bundle of nerves.

It doesn’t take long before another orgasm washes over you, soaking Eren’s face in your arousal. When he finally comes up for air, he’s pulling you into a wet kiss, the taste of you dancing on his tongue.

He pulls back slightly, pressing a quick peck to your cheek before getting up, moving to get the necessary items for aftercare. He cleans you up, dresses you in one of his favorite shirts and slides on a pair of boxers for himself before sidling next to you. He pulls you flush against his chest, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead as he traces shapes down your back.

This is why you always feel slightly bad for Mikasa. You know she craves for this level of intimacy with Eren and you know that her heart will break when he breaks the news of your relationship to her on Monday.

*sigh* If only she didn’t feel like a 9-5.

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon

#x chubby reader #anime x chubby reader #anime x black!reader #x black reader #anime x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren yeager x chubby reader #eren jaeger x chubby reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #aot x chubby reader #aot x black reader #attack on titan x chubby reader #attack on titan x black reader

[nixnephili]

Crime and Punishment

The extension I gave him relates to the 2 sets of arms, as I'm sure most have noticed. The top set is the permanent one, and the bottom set is the manifested one.

To explain: CP will walk around most of the time worh his singular, normally positioned set of arms. The second pair only forms and materializes from his form when Punishment calls to **Execution**. And will retreat afterward.

Going into what I'll have CP do, considering we don't know much of Fyodor's ability and its exact rule-set. CP will follow a path of standard executioner. Whomever is pointed out, CP will follow a harrowing, relentless pursuit to execute them. Unlike Fyodor, a touch is not the preferred method for CP. Once appointed, a target CP is analytical, calculated, and adopts a very "terminator-like" approach to things. He will not be hindered or slowed and will always execute the target. Unlike Fyodor's he is ruthless, however.

Anything that applies goes. |"Decapitation- disembowelment, dismemberment", he does not care for theatrics. And neither do most of the other unleashed abilities.

Though CP is faulty, and can/ will refuse cooperation with his oh-so hated user...

So

The middle weapon is a sword - symbolically throughout history, swords were much more often used for execution than axes were.

The sword is also the weapon of judgment and justice. The depiction of justice typically wars a blindfold, holding a sword and scales.

That is the muddle part

The top part is a circle/ circlet/ halo. In poetry and literature, circles and circles symbolize divinity and purity, perfection. As it was in ancient times, monarchs wearing circlets of gold as a representation they were picked by the divine to rule. In poetry, the circle is also seen as infinity, a perfect geometrical form. No corners, uniform, and perfectly even on every side. So the top represents heaven/ divinity.

The bottom is a chasm, a deep drop into a pit. With steep walls and no escape, under the watchful eyes of the vile.

The bottom part is damnation, failure, hell.

-Nix🌙

#nixnephili #bungou stray dogs #bsd season 4 #bsd fanart #bsd headcanons #decay of angels #bungou stray dogs fanart #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #nakajima atsushi #fyo!atsushi au #fyodor bsd #fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd au #bungou stray dogs anime #bungou stray dogs au #bsd abilities

[primus-why]

Another A/B/O AU...

... this time TFA!

Okay some rules this time are:

Alphas can mate with Betas to produce offspring-- with the exception of cross-factional pairs. And you will only ever produce the same frametype as the creators.

Betas and Betas can mate to produce offspring-- but again, they have to both be civilians or both be warframes. They will only produce offspring of the same frametype.

It's very rare for Alpha pairings to reproduce. Same rules above apply concerning frametypes.

Omegas are rare in that anyone can reproduce with them, and thus their offspring can be any frametype. Contrary to a popular myth, the sparkling's frametype is random and not automatically based on whomever the sire/carrier is.

Generally the majority of Decepticons are Alphas, and the majority of Autobots are Betas. A Beta!Decepticon or Alpha!Autobot is not rare but still pretty uncommon.

Omegas have not been seen for generations, and it's believed they've been wiped out. The deaths of Omegas on both sides is partially what kicked up the war, as it now became much more difficult to procreate. Especially for Decepticons, being mostly Alphas.

All mechs regardless of secondary status go through a reproductive receptivity cycle-- the horny time we usually call "heat" or "rut". (But since I couldn't think of a 3rd word for a Betas cycle, we'll call it "RRC" or just "cycle" across the board lol)

Surprise, surprise! Optimus Prime is, in fact, an Omega. He doesn't know that, though...

See, Omegas have been out of the picture for so long, they don't really teach about them anymore in the Academy. Obviously some folks like Ultra Magnus and Ratchet are old enough to remember, as are many of the Decepticons. But generally speaking, Optimus believes he's just a Beta with an abnormally persistent cycle.

Optimus' status is only known to a few-- thanks to the standard examination all new recruits undergo, only some of the older medics and Ultra Magnus himself were aware. The Magnus took great care to not place Optimus on the front lines whenever possible, as he did not want to risk the Cause losing something so precious as an Autobot Omega.

However, at the same time he did not disclose Optimus' status to anyone else-- he knew it would likely result in his peers treating him differently, or worse, the Council might vote to sequester him to a breeding center. No, Optimus himself couldn't even be aware-- Ultra Magnus was worried he'd fall prey to the old stigmas which claimed Omegas were inherently weaker or incapable. Perhaps that was hypocritical of him, since he had been avoiding using Optimus in battles, despite the young Prime being one of the most skilled and capable Bots at the Academy...

Perhaps that's why when the incident on Archa-7 happened, he took the opportunity to all but banish Optimus from Cybertron. Repairing space bridges kept him out of the direct line of fire; nothing ever seemed to happen all the way out there. What's more, Ultra Magnus wouldn't have to continue fabricating reasons why one of the Academy's top students was not being placed in more active roles. Optimus would also be spared the scrutiny of re-evaluation, wherein his status would likely have been disclosed to the Council and everyone in the upper ranks... as well as Ultra Magnus' favoritism.

Yes, Ultra Magnus had thought he was in the clear. The young Prime still had a part to play in the Great Autobot Machine, but not until things had quieted significantly. One day, Optimus would have the chance at a normal civilian life while their planet rebuilds, and Ultra Magnus would have the medics disclose his status so he could decide his own future without the pressures of wartime. For now, all he needed to do was ship the Omega somewhere, far away from prying optics, with a medic who could be discreet and a parting reminder to not be a hero.

... A lot of good that did him.

Some additional notes of who-is-what:

Alphas include*: Megatron, Sentinel Prime, Lugnut, Strika, Ultra Magnus, Bulkhead, Starscream, Blitzwing, Drift

Betas include*: Shockwave, Blurr, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Jazz, Blackarachnia, Prowl, Jetfire and Jetstorm, Rodimus Prime

*but are not limited to

#a/b/o #mechpreg #valveplug #y'all know i gotta tag as: #megop #fuzz writes #possible other ships: #shockblurr #blitzbee #dratchet #and of course strika/lugnut #tfa

[lady-raziel]

'canon isn't real' the thing is though that it literally is? I get what you're saying but like. it's still real.

I think what the critical underpinning of what I mean by “canon isn’t real” specifically in the case of Fallout is that it’s not inherently a clean cut case like some other media franchises. In cases where a particular universe has one main creator who has retained and exercised creative ownership over the story, it’s much easier to say “this is what the facts of the story are based on what is explicitly depicted in writing/on screen/etc. and ‘word of god’ additions by the author if you decide to count that.” The more people that are involved in creatively contributing to a story, the more difficult this gets. It becomes SIGNIFICANTLY more complicated if a franchise changes hands and later contributors decide to pick and choose what THEY believe to be the established events of the universe. In these cases, who do you choose to trust as the decisive source of what “canon” is? Is it the original creator above all others, or only the current owner of the property? What happens if the property changes hands multiple times and none of the owners agree on what installments are the “real” ones? What happens if the franchise changes creative control again and they decide something entirely different—are fans to simply take their word for it even if it means the additions to the universe that caused them to fall in love with it in the first place are disregarded?

In the end, all these questions apply to the Fallout franchise in both the past and going forward. I think, for me, it’s a problem of who can and should decide what matters to a story universe—the individual fans who invest their attention to a property, or whomever has a legal document that says they own the copyright (especially if it is not the original creator). This is even more important for interactive entertainment where there is no one set ending or way of completing the elements of the story in the exact same way as someone else.

In the post that this ask is referring to, the main point that I wanted to get across is that you shouldn’t let whoever is, on paper, “in charge” of the story determine why YOU like it. If not strictly viewing events through the lens that the current owner of the property says is the correct interpretation brings you enhanced enjoyment of the story, then THAT is more important.

To sum up, I would ask you to consider who’s word you’re trusting on what is canon and why, with the knowledge that there are many conflicting opinions and that what is canon now could almost certainly change in the future.

#fallout #fallout prime

[nerdyloverparadise]

Osamu Dazai:

General Dating Headcanons.

-Dazai would hold you as you fall asleep and very tightly as a reflex. He’d hold you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear in his arms forever. He only does it when you’re asleep and he knows you will remain asleep.

-He’d give you very detailed and precise compliments at certain times. They’re often random and at interesting times. For example, in the middle of a movie he’ll be deep in thought, his mind a cacophony of fears and semi unwanted attachments, all involving you. He’d say something like:

“You remind me of Dahlias in spring, beautiful and ephemeral as ever.” He won’t elaborate on it much further and will be in his head a lot after he says it because he means it.

-He already has everything set up depending on how your day went, he keeps tabs on you and knows exactly what to do for you in every way.

-Has a playlist of songs that have particular sentences that make him think of you. Doesn't talk about it at all.

-I feel like Dazai would be very distant from you externally but obsessed in his mind. His love would come off in many different displays, such as poking you in the face, kicking your feet under tables, taking your headphones while you’re listening to music so that he can share your taste, your favorite things appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

-He’d hug you every once in a while, and return the hug a little. Not a lot but just enough to feel something for a moment. He doesn't want his emotions to overflow because the feelings already make him a little uncomfortable as it is.

-He yearns for a deeper connection and to feel something but is deeply afraid of it as well, whenever he applies himself a lot or starts to feel as though a big commitment is being made, he may start to feel trapped and close off again, hence why he’ll leave you the things he knows you like but never give it to you straight up. On the off chance that he does give it to you face to face, it's kind of awkward and he hands it to you without acknowledging the intimacy of it. Maybe facing forward, away from you as he deals with the butterflies in his stomach-

Dazai: I.. got you this. hands it to you distantly.

You: Thank you. I love it.

Dazai: quiet momentarily and then smiles a tiny bit. Mhm.

-he’d just feel a little weird about his feelings for the moment.

-The relationship will often feel like a friendship sometimes and Dazai won’t express a lot of what he thinks or feels but there will always be little things he does to remind you.

“Hey hottie.”

“Pretty.”

*leaves notes on the fridge which kind of sound like old cheesy love declarations.*

-Loves, loves, loves how you look in anything and will always express that verbally. “Pretty girl/boy/whomever’ “Ethereal” “Angel”

-If you ever feel conscious about your body, he wont have it and will always make you stand in front of him and spin around while he compliments and hypes you up.

-With that being said, he acts like a girlfriend a lot. “Hey girl.” “No she didnttt.” This probably would have some over exaggerated movements to make you irritated.

-Won't label the relationship but will make it clear what it entails to avoid feeling tied down. He won’t cheat at all and his loyalty would run with you because you help him embrace a vulnerable side of himself. It comes from a fear of finally having something and then getting it taken away from him again so he always feels like it’s safer for him to have one foot out of the door and one foot in.

-He likes head rubs or massages which you can typically lull him to sleep with simply because it makes him feel very safe for once. It makes him feel cared for but it also makes him uneasy simultaneously since he associates feelings of safety and security with pain and abandonment as well.

-He loves to make the closest people to him angry or irritated and it’s because that is all he has ever been around. He thinks the rawest emotions are the negative ones and he associates that with how he cares for people. This is especially apparent for you.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #headcanon #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd #osamu dazai

[hobisfavoritespritecan]

Headcannons I Have For Ladybug & Tangerine:

Ladybug X Reader, Tangerine X Reader

Just a little filler while I wait for creativity to hit me enough to write the second part of Lady Luck. Here is a little drabble for you guys 💛

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos ⚠️

.🐞🐞🐞 L A D Y B U G 🐞🐞🐞.

Let's be real, this guy is such a fucking asshole so any chance he gets to annoy you, he'll take it. Whether that be pulling your socks halfway off your feet while you're laying down or pushing your hat down in front of your eyes when you're walking, this guy loves getting an annoyed grunt from you.

Your relationship together is very much a playful one. I see Ladybug as someone who would have to be really good friends with someone before things got more serious.

The two of you bicker like a married couple over really stupid things.

"Babe, where'd you put my wasabi peas?"

"Up your ass along with that shitty bucket hat of yours."

Ladybug is also the type to be overly comfortable with PDA. Don't get me wrong, this man just adores being able to hold your hand or move the hair out of your eyes, but if he's given the opportunity for a quickie in the train bathroom, he'd be stoked. Especially considering how cool Japanese toilets are.

He'll ask you to pay for his snacks. This applies to everywhere though.

You're aware of the fact he's a secret agent, but you never pry into it too much. You allow him his space and he allows you yours.

On the off-chance you're also an agent, you'll opt to work together as partners whenever you can.

He vows to protect you.

You vow to protect him.

.🍊🍊🍊 Tangerine 🍊🍊🍊.

Tangerine is definitely the more romantic type, whomever he's in love with will always feel a watchful eye over them in an overprotective way. It's not uncomfortable, more so just an unannounced presence.

He falls in love and he does so fast. He's very much a hopeless romantic and he's willing to put aside his wiseness when making decisions if it comes to someone whom he's interested in romantically.

That being said, he's also very lovey-dovey I'm public. You won't tend to get a whole lot of laughs from him but he will give you his blazer when it's cold and will hold your hand when the time allows for it. He's comfortable in a sense where he can let people know you're his, but he doesn't show any crazy efforts of PDA like Ladybug.

He complains a lot so he wants someone to balance it out with smiles and affectionate hugs.

"Hello, lovely. I apologize for being in such a mood, but as it turns out I might actually fucking die."

"That's okay, I'll give you so many hugs it'll l create a protective forcefield."

He lets you wear his cologne

He expects you to get along well with Lemon; if his person of interest doesn't do so, then they're out of the picture for good.

Lemon does like you though, I mean, you're important to his brother. So, you don't have to worry too much about that.

#brad pitt #bullet train tangerine #lemon bullet train #tangerine bullet train #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #bullet train x reader #david leitch #lemon and tangerine #tangerine #bullet train lemon #bullet train ladybug #brad pitt imagine #brad pitt fanfic #brad pitt x reader

[imfinereallyy]

Is this okay?

tw: discussions of panic attacks, discussions sa (nothing graphic or very far, and no assualt happens with steddie), and implied sexual coercion.

Steve knew there was never a good time to have a panic attack.

But this most definitely felt like the absolute worst time.

He was having sex with a girl. He had to clarify that to Robin when he told her he was going on a date; he hadn't gotten the nerve to do the “sex with a guy” thing yet. So he went with what he knew. Besides, there was only one guy Steve really wanted.

But he was having sex with a girl, a girl named Linda, who had given him her number at a diner across town where she worked. Steve had thought she was nice, pretty. Very all-American with her blonde hair, blue eyes and perfectly straight teeth. No matter how pretty she was though, Steve didn’t really feel much for her.

He felt terrible about that. Steve felt like he had wasted her time. He didn’t want Linda to feel that way, so he wanted to ensure she got something out of the date. So when they had finished milkshakes at a different diner than the one she worked at (yea he hadn’t put much thought into the date), he agreed to go back to her place.

He really shouldn’t have agreed to go back to her place.

In retrospect, Steve knew it was wrong to have sex with Linda. Not because having sex on the first date was bad, but because he shouldn't have sex with someone just because he felt bad. Steve imagines if one of the kids did that, or if Robin did that, he would lose his mind. He would be so upset, not with them, but with whomever they felt pressure to do it with. It’s just hard for him to apply to himself.

Guess that’s what valuing yourself for only sex at a young would do to you. King Steve, he could hear them say.

He had ignored his instincts, though, and went back to her place anyway.

It had started fine; it really had. Steve went down on her, wanting to make her feel good. That was the whole point. Steve was excited about that part. But then it came to sealing the deal. Linda wanted him naked, of course. But Steve couldn’t bring himself to take off his shirt. Even months later, he was insecure about the new scars on his body. Steve told Linda he wanted to keep it on.

She had been okay with it at first.

It’s when they were in the middle of it, sweaty bodies colliding with each other, that it happens.

Linda's hands snuck up his shirt, and Steve completely freezes. Steve just full stops in the middle of sex.

“Why did you stop?” Linda asked, exasperated like Steve was annoying her.

“I—just. Your hands.” Steve choked out.

“You’re upset? With my hands under your shirt? Seriously?”

“I—“ Steve felt the pressure begin to build up in his chest. Something was definitely wrong, right on the edge of overflowing.

“Sorry, I guess. Probably better off anyway. I don’t know what happened under there, but it didn’t feel good. Can’t imagine it’s pretty. Can we just get back into it?” Linda tried to pull Steve down for a kiss, but he yanked his head away from her.

Steve was suddenly hyper-aware of everything on his skin. Every stretch, every pull, every lump. Steve swallowed the dry lump in his throat as he tried to calm his breath.

Linda didn’t seem to notice. “C’mon, Steve. I thought I was getting the King out of this. I’ve heard the rumors. I may have graduated the year before you, but even I know how good you make girls feel in bed.” Steve felt dirty. Used. This wasn’t what sex was supposed to be like. Not unless he wanted it like that, and today he had most definitely not wanted that. His breath was coming out in short pants. His hands were sweating. Linda continued, “You’re acting like a freak right now. God. This was such a waste of time.”

Steve was up in an instant, scrambling to get all of his clothes on. He wanted out. Out of this bed. Out of this apartment. Out of his head.

Steve thought that maybe Linda had said something to him on his way out, something that his subconscious must have picked up because he could feel the tears down his face in reaction to her voice. Steve ran out the door, ignoring her.

The rest was kind of a blur.

One second, Steve was throwing himself inside his car, trying to choke himself on his own breath. The next, he was flying down Main Street, with only the flashes of street lights as a reminder to his brain that he was moving.

Then, suddenly, Steve was banging on the metal door of a trailer.

When did he get here? Who’s door is this? What time was it? God, where were his shoes?

Steve leaned his head against the cool metal, as he tried to ground himself. It wasn’t working. He could feel reality slipping from him. He just wanted to fucking breathe.

The trailer door opened just when Steve was contemplating banging his head against it. Steve fell forward, his weight had been entirely against the door, he stumbled slightly before catching himself on the frame.

“Steve?” He heard a confused familiar voice.

Oh thank god, it was Eddie. Eddie would help him. Eddie would know what to do.

“Eddie I—I”

“Stevie, what? What’a wrong?” Steve could see Eddie’s sleepy fast morph into concern. Steve felt bad, probably woke him up. He knew Eddie didn’t get much sleep nowadays. Steve needed to tell him he was sorry.

All that came out, though, was, “I—I can’t breathe.”

Steve hunched over, slamming himself into one side of the frame. Eddie moved to catch him, but hovers his hands instead. Steve saw panic flash across his face.

Steve really needed to say sorry.

He didn’t get to, though, because suddenly Eddie asked, “Can I touch you?”

It shouldn’t have broken him, something as simple as that. It was a simple question. A courtesy, a common fucking decency. Some people didn’t like to be touched during panic attacks, and Steve now understood what was happening, and Eddie was just being kind. It shouldn’t have broken him.

But it did. Steve couldn’t remember the last time someone asked what he had wanted. Especially tonight.

Suddenly Steve was sobbing, throwing himself into Eddie’s awaiting arms. Eddie shushed him softly and brought him inside. “It’ll be okay. Don’t worry. It may be scary now, but it’ll be okay.”

Eddie walked them to the couch, shutting the fire gently behind them. Eddie laid Steve’s head on his shoulder and gently rocked them back and forth for awhile. Eddie whispered sweet nothing in his ears as Steve loudly wept.

Steve wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time his cries quieted. He pulled back to look at Eddie and rubbed furiously at his eyes. Steve felt the panic still stewing in his chest, but most of it had spilled out.

Eddie brushed a hair behind his ear, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve hesitated. He was scared of how Eddie would react. Would he call him dramatic? Would he say that both Linda and he were using each other? That he should be glad that he was getting laid? That someone liked him enough to look past the scars? Steve knew in his heart, though, that Eddie was safe. No matter what Steve said, Eddie would at least try to understand.

“Promise not to be mad?”

“I can promise to not be mad at you. Whatever that made you upset could be a different story. But I promise you sweetheart, I’ll never be mad at you for having feelings.” Eddie grabbed his hand and squeezed it in encouragement.

Steve took a deep breath before speaking. “I was on a date—“ Eddie had a flash of some emotion that Steve couldn’t process entirely at the moment, and it was gone before he could say something. “—And the girl I was with, she was nice. She was pretty. She should be what I want.”

Eddie nodded in encouragement. Steve pushed on. “But the date wasn’t good. It wasn’t bad, not really, just nothing special. It was on me, I didn’t even try. Not really. And I felt so bad that she wasn’t getting much out of it.”

“So you panicked because of a bad—sorry mediocre date? Steve, it’s okay. You don’t owe her anything.” Eddie didn’t sound angry or judgmental. He sounded concerned, if anything. His tone was gentle and warm; Steve didn’t want that to change.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Steve, I promised you I wouldn’t be.” Again, Eddie’s tone was gentle.

“I felt bad, ya know? I should make the date better. Give her something. So when she asked me to her place, I didn’t say no, and I know I should have said no. But she was nice initially, and I didn’t want to upset her. So I went upstairs—“ Steve started to rush out his words, the panic building up again “—and it was fun at first. I gave oral; I liked that part; I always like making my partners feel good. But then she wanted to have sex, and I—I wanted to keep my shirt on. My scars they—they still feel like they're fresh some days. And I didn’t want to deal with them. And she was good about it at first, I swear! But then she put her hands up my shirt, and I just couldn’t do it. I just, god, Eddie, I just froze. And she was so upset with me. Talked about how she expected better from me. How this wasn’t King Steve. How she was happy, the shirt was on because what was underneath didn’t feel good and…” Steve trailed off.

Eddie looked furious. There was a quiet rage that seeped through his breaths. His shoulders were rigid. Even so, his grip never turned harsh. It never caused Steve pain.

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered.

“Don’t. Don’t be sorry Steve. It’s okay. Continue if you like.” Eddie choked out but sounded sincere.

Steve looked directly into his eyes for a moment before deciding to continue. “I was panicking. I couldn’t breathe, Eddie. And she still…she still wanted to continue. Like, pretend I wasn’t about to have a psychotic break. And I just felt like this thing. Like I was an object to be used and discarded, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t stay there. I just left. And I probably freaked her out and gave her the worst night of her life, and I—“

Eddie cut him off by bring his hands to Steve’s face and gently brushed his tears away. “Ssshh, you didn’t—you didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?”

Steve nodded furiously unable to speak.

Eddie held eye contact as he spoke. “I want you to listen to me alright? I got a couple of things to say but I need you to tell me if it’s too much? This is not about me. You won’t hurt my feelings. Okay?

Steve nodded again.

“Honey, I need you to say it.”

“Okay.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath. He didn’t let go of Steve’s face, gently cradled it as he began again. “First off, I am not mad at you. You did nothing wrong. Nothing Steve. I’m mad at her. She—She doesn’t get to touch you like that. Not if you don’t want her to. Even if you didn’t say it, you were clearly not enjoying yourself. And she didn’t care. She disregarded your feelings multiple times and even made fun of you, and guilted you into doing more than you’re comfortable with. I know it’s difficult to hear, but what she did was assault.”

Steve tried to protest, “I consented. I did that because I wanted to—”

Eddie cut him off but wasn't unkind in doing so. “Steve. If you felt guilty for not wanting to do anything with her, so you did something anyway to make her feel better, that isn’t consent. But I can’t label it for you. If you feel otherwise, it’s not my place to tell you. I’m here for you either way. But I’m going to tell you something. Not the whole thing, not right now. Maybe another day. This isn’t about me, though. I just think you might need to hear it.”

Steve nodded again.

Eddie slid his hands down to Steve’s hips like it was his turn to ground himself. Steve didn’t mind. “A couple of years ago, I was in my first relationship. I’m gay, as you know, so being open wasn’t really an option. No one could tell me right from wrong because no one knew. I lost my virginity to this guy; he was a couple of years older. I definitely knew what he was doing even though I didn’t. We had sex all the time. But one day, I wasn’t in the mood. It happens. But…but he made me feel so guilty about it. Like I had hurt him, told him he was the problem. Like there was a problem at all, like I didn’t simply want to have sex, he has made it about me having internalized homophobia, about how I didn’t really love him, how I was selfish. So I caved. I had sex with him anyway. And then I went home that night. Went back to the trailer, only to find Wayne had the rare night off that night. When I saw him, I burst into tears and told him what had happened. He hadn’t even known I was gay. He didn’t care, though, about any of it. But he had to explain to me that it didn’t matter what gender it was; if I didn’t want to have sex, that was up to me that I didn’t need to prove anything. And that anyone who said otherwise didn’t actually care about me.”

Steve was no longer in a panic, but his tears didn’t stop. He was so, so sad. Sad for Eddie. For himself.

“How do you feel now? About it all?” Steve spoke for the first time in ten minutes.

Eddie shrugged. He squeezed Steve’s hips. “Good some days. Bad others. Better overall. I’ll never be completely over it. I know that, but I—I have good things now to help me through it.” Eddie pointedly looked at Steve, a soft smile on his face.

Steve thought about saying sorry to him. That he was sorry that ever happened, but he knew that, like himself, Eddie wouldn’t want that. So Steve settled on the truth. “I don’t know what to call it. I think—I know I didn’t like it. And I know it hurt even if it wasn’t physical. I still feel like I did something wrong. Even if I know I didn’t. I’m worried I’ll change my mind and that I’ll be wrong.”

Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “You can always change your mind about this, but you’ll never be wrong. You will not be wrong about your feelings.”

“Okay.”

“I think we should talk more about this, but you’ve had a long night. Do you want to stay tonight? I can stay on the couch; you can have my bed. I don’t really want you too far. You scared me a bit today—which again isn’t your fault. But if you’re okay with it, I want to be here to help.”

Steve swallowed another dry lump. The emotion this time was good. Overwhelmed with the care Eddie was giving him, he responded “You don’t have to stay on the couch. We can share.”

Eddie tensed, “Steve, don’t offer just cause I might be uncomfortable.”

Steve soothed a hand down Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. I would like it, if, ya know, you stayed with me. Just lay next to me. If that’s alright with you.”

Eddie smiled softly, “Only if you’re sure it’s okay.”

They get ready for bed after that. Eddie, already in pj’s, handed Steve an old Metallica shirt with holes in it and plaid pants. He changed in the bathroom despite having undressed in front of Eddie before. Steve wasn’t sure he was ready to be naked in front of another person yet.

After a few minutes, Eddie and Steve got comfortable in bed. Hair splayed out in the pillows and cozy under the covers, both boys just stared at the ceiling. “Would you…would you touch me, Eddie? Just…just need to know you’re there.” Steve felt silly saying it; he could see Eddie right there. He wasn’t making much sense.

Eddie seemed to get it, though. “Of course, baby.” He shifted to his side and moved Steve along with him until they were spooning. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and pulled him flush against his chest.

Steve could feel Eddie’s hot breath against his neck. In any other scenario with him, it might have been a charged moment. Now it was different. Better even. It was solace.

“Is this okay?” Eddie whispered into the dark room.

Steve thought about his night. How awful it was, how it probably would get worse before it got better. That he had a lot to work on, but there in the bed where Eddie held him tightly, safely, Steve couldn’t help but feel relief. He knew this was the place he needed to be. No matter how bad the day went, Eddie would support him. Love him.

“Yea, it’s okay.”

———

this was heavy and very personal. It honestly did start off as a panic attack fic but as usual I spiraled. This one though like spiraled in a different way then usual. It felt like something I needed to get out. I know probably three people will read it and no one will probably enjoy it, but it felt good to write it. I think I might write an extended version part on ao3, there were parts in it that felt rush or could have been more.

this again felt more personal (even though my fics are always at least a little personal) so be kind.

If you, a friend or family member may have experienced something like the content of this story please feel free to reach out. Whether that be to me, a friend, or a helpline. My inbox is always open. Be kind to yourself and others 🧡

#steddie #I would love it if you gave this a read #Cw: implied sa #cw: panic attack #cw: just a lot of feelings #stranger things #steve x eddie #hurt/comfort #angst #hopeful ending #angst with a hopeful ending #this was healing #and validating #I’m here if you need #steve harrington centric #Steve Harrington #ao3 #ficlet #long fic #Eddie munson loves Steve Harrington #and he loves him back #pre relationship #my writing #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #discussions of dark themes #original character #Linda sucks but not all Linda’s just this one #robin buckley #only mentioned

[wings-of-a-storm]

There is a stand-out scene in Young Royals S2 that I actually actively never try to re-watch because the pain in it absolutely guts me. But I'm going to be brave and talk about it and let out all the feels because as much as it chokes me up, it is an absolute masterpiece in motion and I want to pay my respects to it (for effing me up this bad haha).

That scene is (unsurprisingly) when Wille cries as he watches himself dress up as a nobleman/prince for the ball.

(^genuinely can’t face putting the crying face in this post)

My goodness, that scene was so well done.

It's such brilliant storytelling that the (quietly brutal) quiet moment of Wille confronting himself in the mirror is surrounded on either side by images and sounds of all the other students having the time of their lives and really getting into the theme because dress up is supposed to be fun, right?

But the point of dressing up is that it is a fun escapism, right? You get to take on a different persona for a brief time, be whomever you want (there's so much freedom in that choice), and you get to be creative with it. It is a novelty. And then once that brief, fun period is over, you take the outfit off and just go back to 'normal' life.

But for Wille, he doesn't get to do that (not really, at least). He is a prince no matter what era clothing he dons and discards. Dressing up for the ball is not escapism for him, it's prison.

Wille's actual escapism happens every day of his life when he gets to wear a uniform like everyone else at school (or before that, going to 'normal' public schools). So if Wille's 'dress up' escapism is essentially his every day life, in this ball scene, he has to do the opposite of everyone and discard his costume of everyday clothing to put on his reality. And boy is the pain of that a kick in the guts when he is the one secretly crying in a room as he sees himself in the mirror while everyone else is bursting with joyful energy and make-believe.

That scene is like a visual bubble of grief; it really emphasises how alone he is. No one else has his status and all that comes with it; no one else can actually understand how it feels. That's the sorrowful fate of being a prince who doesn't want to be a prince (and who has lost his brother, the one person who did know what it felt like). Not even us viewers who love him and want the best for him can truly understand what he is feeling; the best we can do is empathise with his desolate loneliness. (Look at me talking like he is a real person. Shh!)

And then there is the whole applying makeup element to it all as well! The point of makeup in general is to conceal and transform, right? Conceal the natural face and transform it into a desired illusion? I know painting your face white was the fashion the students are trying to replicate at the ball but it sure hurts knowing that in Wille's case, there is also the metaphorical layer of him concealing his pain behind a white mask and transforming himself into the image everyone expects of him. But watching him do it, it is like he is lowering himself onto a sword; like it is destroying crucial parts of himself to do it.

And that is not fun and games for a night out at a ball. Not at all.

*Screams into the universe* It is such a brutallllll scene. (And yes, shout-out to Edvin for making it even more brutal with his description of it on twitter.)

Seriously though, you know when a tragedy occurs and part of you gets frozen in time? Like you can forever recall where you were and what you were thinking at the time? Well, this scene hit me like that (melodramatic maybe but true!). I remember seeing Wille looking into that mirror and my mind started screaming: "NO, NO, NO, STOP THIS SCENE, IT'S TOO MUCH! I know everyone is having the time of their lives but this isn't FUN for Wille! This is his reality! This isn't dress up that he can just discard after the party! Why are you making him dress up like that! Can't you see how cruel that is?!"

But hey, as much as it aches (or maybe because of how much it aches xD) I do love that they worked that wardrobe choice into the show though -- of Wille dressed in the image of an old-school prince while interacting with Simon, the uniform-wearing everyday man and his equally common/wait staff-esque suited boyfling. It is a tad in your face but it is marvellous at showing the reality of Wille's status and how alone he is in it. Sigh. I hate love this show.

#Young royals #Prince Wilhelm #writing as therapy #i checked myself and still wrecked myself #YR thoughts

[bihansthot]

I’m the anon who sent the thirst ask lol I always thought that if he were to say something he actually whispers while lightly kisses his partner, he’s not used to being emotional and expressing his feelings so it’s more like him touching or holding you or kissing you while he whispers soft stuff like how wonderful you are or how much he wants you to be his. Also I think IF YOU EVER FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE ABOUT YOUR BODY AND HIDE IT FROM HIM he would go like “no no don’t hide yourself my love I love everything you are and you have” though he would be extremely distant and cold the day after that would make you crazy.. you’re the boss I wonder what do you think about that

I’m horrible nonny and replied to this ages after the thirsty ask so I have no clue who it was about but judging on who I usually specialize in, Bi-Han, Syzoth and Reiko are one hundred percent your number one cheerleader for body positivity! Everyone of them loves every inch of you, regardless of if you do or not, there’s no shaming allowed with them. You WILL love yourself dammit you’re their’s after all and everything they do is flawless, surely their partner is as well, at least in their eyes they are.

Please note this also applies to absolutely EVERYONE in Mortal Kombat, you are beautiful and perfect to whomever you love and they love you back so hard it hurts. There is nothing they wouldn’t do or say to make you smile, to make you proud, to see the love they give you reflected back in your beautiful eyes.

#mortal kombat #bi han #sub zero #body positivity #bi han loves you the way you are #he also loves thicc girls cause I said so #soft bi han hours #bi han x you #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #sub zero x you #mk reiko #reiko x reader #reiko x you #syzoth x reader #syzoth x you #mk reptile #mk reptile x you #mk reptile x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #positivity #they love you #period

[sirowsky-stories]

Collision

Part 9

Description: Taking a gamble, Pero seeks out the people responsible for the threat to Niki's life, ready to end it, one way or another.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x OFC, no reader insert, Pero's pov, conspiracy, cursing, angst, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity, AU fic. TW: mentions of child-abuse and rape, as well as spousal abuse and coerced self-cutting. (Not committed by any of the main characters.) Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY Word Count: 6520 Series Masterlist

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay, but here is the final part of this series. I partly wish that I'd had more inspiration for a different ending to this, but I'm also not sure what that ending might've been. Anyway, thank you to anyone who toughed it out and comes to see how this ends! And to those of you who showered this story with your enthusiasm while it was active: You're all superheroes!

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   It’s been three days since his run-in with the general’s assassin when he finally finds a way into the secure military base which the man himself operates from.    All of Pero’s informants have been on constant high alert since he informed them of his need to gain access to Hayword, preferably quietly, but by any means necessary should it come to that. And they haven’t disappointed.

   The Qwerty brothers are the ones who bring him the crucial intel, having managed to trick an off-duty officer into divulging a few tidbits of information during a drinking game the night before. If there’s one thing the superstar wannabes are good at, it’s holding their liquor.    He had expected them to try and worm their way out of the deal, using this success as their bargaining chip, but surprisingly, they seem only excited to give him something useful. They even offer to act as his muscle, which would in no way benefit them if he fails.    And come to think of it, not really if he should win either.

   He turns them down, though. It’s easier to sneak in undetected if it’s just him. But he does consider it, because undisciplined though the men might be, they are formidable killers and completely unbothered by the status or power of whomever their target might be. They’d be handy in a close-quarter fight, no doubt.    As it is, this mission requires finesse rather than brute force, so he heads to the compound alone.

   It’s big. Departments of almost all branches of the US military operates from here, which is why Hayword has so many resources at his disposal. But Pero suspects that not many people here are aware of the real reason why such a decorated and high-profile officer hasn’t risen further in status yet. His accolades on paper more than suggests he should be eligible for promotion into the very highest ranks of the US Army, but here he is, commanding just one base in the District of Colombia.

   They don’t know that this is as far as he will ever go, because of the practices he applies to achieve those victories. That he’s a precision tool being used where he can operate the most freely, while still under strict supervision.    They have no idea the man is responsible for entire massacres, and that he considers such actions to be normal practice. To him, there is no such thing as an atrocity, so long as it’s committed in the name of protecting American citizens.

   And the fact that only a handful of people within the highest seats of the government know this, is also precisely why killing the general won’t solve anything. It would just spark an even worse manhunt.    Which means that Pero has to play this much more delicately. But he’s prepared himself as well as he possibly could have.

   A precision strike, perfectly timed and executed is what it’ll take to succeed here tonight, but if all his assets have performed exactly as instructed, there’s every chance it could work.    He chooses to focus on that, rather than the overwhelming odds he might fail, as he begins his perilous endeavor into the base.    This is for Niki. So, even if he dies trying, it’s already worth it.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   “That’s it?”

   “It’s all I can find. He heads for one of the neighboring buildings, by the looks of it, but I can’t see him beyond the subway cameras.”

   “So, what? He’s just gone…?” Niki half screams, half sobs, because this is more than she can take right now.

   “No, no, no, hey…” William counters softly, taken off guard by how strongly she reacts, rising to his feet and turning away from the screens to give her his full focus. “He would never leave you. You gotta know that.”

   She does know that. In the safest and most tightly guarded part of her heart, she knows. But her mind falters, corroded by the terror she’s been living with for weeks now, and she closes her eyes against his words, unable to allow herself the hope.

   “Something’s happened while he was out, either someone spotted him or he’s afraid that someone will, that’s the only reason he’d behave like this. Trying to throw someone off our scent. So, now more than ever, it’s imperative that we don’t screw up.    Do you hear me, Niki?”

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   Once inside the compound, Pero moves fast. He needs to locate the general before anyone clocks him as someone who doesn’t belong there, although the stolen uniform he’s wearing helps to make him stand out less. There are way too many people to try and sneak past, so he has to walk among them as though he belongs, knowing who to salute and how to behave like just another cog in the military machine.

   Which is why he’s spent the past three days scouting the base from afar, learning it’s rhythm, routine, and discipline. He knows everything he needs to know, including that the rank indicated on his uniform gives him access to the building where Hayword mostly operates from.    He gets in without problems, thanks to an immaculate fake ID badge with a built-in electronic signature for all locks on the premises, courtesy of the best forger in the world.

   The general is already in there, he’s made sure to time it so that the man will be in his office, probably having lunch, when Pero gets to him.    This is where routine and punctuality becomes a man’s enemy, because those things make him predictable, and the trespasser has spent enough time observing him to know that he never misses his lunch.    Mrs. Hayword makes it for him, with outstanding precision.

   On his way there, Pero encounters a nervous cadet, probably only given access to this building while she learns about the real-life application of military forces, because she doesn’t have the rank required to actually work in here.    Ordinarily, that would require her to stay on the heels of a chaperone, or supervisor, but she’s all alone when he meets her in an otherwise empty corridor.    Most all corridors are empty, since personnel here work primarily at desks and with computers, not requiring them to move around much within departments.

   “Sir!” she salutes as she approaches him, and as soon as he’s saluted her in return, she launches into a nervous rant. “Sir, I’m so sorry, I don’t wanna be a bother and I’m sure you’re very busy, but I’ve lost my captain, and I don’t know what to do.    Can you help me? If I screw this up, I won’t pass this month’s evaluation…”

   He checks his watch. It’ll take him another two minutes to reach the general’s office and by his calculations, he has at least ten minutes before his mark might be finishing his meal. But he’s not keen on going off-script. Even the smallest deviation could be fatal to his mission.

   “Do you know where you’re supposed to be right now, cadet?” he asks, hoping to ascertain if this might be a quick fix.

   “Uh, I think we were heading for Logistics, but then I went to the bathroom and when I got out-…”

   “Straight down this hall, take a left, then follow the corridor all the way to the end. Logistics is the last door on your right,” he cuts her off, then continues on his way.

   “Oh, gosh, thank you so much, Major!” she chirps while she starts moving in the direction he’s indicated.

   He has the entire building memorized from top to bottom, so simply giving directions was never gonna be an issue.    But as he’s about to turn a corner, he hears the young woman say something, more to herself than anyone else, and her words manage to grind him to a halt.

   “…I’m enough of a failure as it is.”

   Precisely why hearing these words from this unknown woman (well, more like girl, really) affects him so profoundly in that moment, escapes his understanding at first. But as he turns back and sees her initial excitement at knowing where to go, fade with the understanding that she’ll likely get an earful once she gets there, and how her shoulders slump with the realization that she’s already failed, something stirs in his gut.

   Some dormant paternal instinct, maybe, brought to the surface by even the frailest possibility that he might one day have to see his own child suffer with self-doubt and insecurity.

   “Cadet,” he calls back softly, and she immediately stops, whirling around and adapting the correct pose for when an officer addresses her, with her hands tight to her sides and her feet close together. “How old are you?”

   “Nineteen, sir.”

   “Nineteen…” he repeats, tasting the word while his mind makes a quick jump back in time, recalling his own, less than excellent youth. “You’re in the military rather than a gang. You take pride in accomplishing a task, rather than expect the world to cater to you. You worry about how to be a good soldier, when you could’ve just as easily thrown your life away in any number of ways and for any sort of shallow reasons. But you’re here. Where everything is hard and challenging, testing yourself to the limits of your abilities, day after day.”

   She grows teary-eyed as she listens, and he wonders if no one has ever seen or pointed out her strength before. Just as he wonders why he does now, and why this girl’s strength even matters to him.

   “You’re not a failure, cadet.”

   He can see her open her mouth to say something, but her throat is too tightly closed, so she nods instead, while a small but infinitely grateful smile adorns her lips, before she turns and sprints down the hall, no doubt worried about how late she already is. And perhaps eager to conceal her tears from someone she believes to be her superior.

   Pero watches her leave, even though he’s on a schedule, and a strange feeling that this encounter was important to him, lingers in his body.    Something warm but also frightening.    Once she’s gone, he shakes his head a fraction and then resumes his course for the general’s office, checking his watch again on the way. Three minutes to spare.

   Reaching the correct door, he pauses and listens, confirming someone’s actually in there, before he knocks just once and then steps in without waiting for an invitation. He only alerted the man to the presence of someone at his door to ensure that he’ll be looking this way as Tovar steps in, since he knows the man will immediately look him up and down in search of any visible weapons. And finding none, he’ll trick himself into a false sense of security, which is exactly where his enemy wants him. Oblivious to the real danger.

   “Good day, general. My apologies for interrupting your lunch, sir, but I’m afraid I have a rather urgent matter to discuss,” he politely addresses the older man, who looks mostly annoyed, but also confounded.

   “I’m sorry, do I know you, major?”

   “No, sir.”

   “Then what makes you think you can interrupt my lunch at all?”

   “Urgency, as mentioned, sir. I’m afraid this can’t wait.”

   “I don’t care how god damned urgent you think whatever this is might be, I don’t know you, which means you’re not part of my unit. So, you can either get out or get arrested,” the general barks, glaring at him now over his plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes.

   “You’re correct, sir, I’m not part of your unit. In fact, I’m not a major or even listed in any military,” Pero confesses calmly, following the other man’s movements as he quickly rises from his chair and picks up his phone, probably to call the military police.

   But his uninvited guest doesn’t flinch.

   “Mary does make wonderful lunches for you. There’s such dedication to every detail, so much time spent on planning and preparation, one might think she’s a chef,” he says, layering every word with implication, and seeing the man freeze before hitting any button as he realizes the fraud before him isn’t harmless. “Even the plate is immaculately prepared. Not one drop of sauce in the wrong place, everything perfectly measured and laid out in exact proportions… almost as if she worries that getting one detail wrong would see her punished for her failure.”

   Hayword is fuming by the time he finishes, but he keeps his feelings under control for the time being, undoubtedly hoping to learn more about his enemy.    Although, the fact that he puts the phone down without having attempted any calls, reveals to his guest just how uncomfortable the man suddenly is, and how much power Pero has over him right now.

   “Everyone here knows my wife; you could’ve asked around for that information. If you’re trying to intimidate me-…”

   “She cuts herself in the evenings,” he clips the general off, and sees his quarry literally swallow whatever he’d been about to say. “You’ve taught her how to do it exactly right so that it’ll hurt without causing any real damage. Because you like to watch.”

   The older man’s rage is undiminished, but his lips remain sealed, because he knows where this is going, and while he might not be ashamed of it, he damned well knows what happens if it gets out.

   “Her pain is the only thing that arouses you, so you stand there at the edge of the bed, stroking yourself while you watch her cut repeatedly at your command, just so you can shove your dick down her throat and choke her half to death once she’s got you hard enough,” Pero continues, letting his disdain for the man be heard in every syllable now. “I’m curious, do you think your unit would have your back if they found out what happened to your first two wives?”

   Hayword’s anger seems to dissipate now, because this is entirely unexpected. He’s been assured that no evidence remains of those women, or of the crimes he committed against them.    But Tovar is no ordinary man. Secrets find him as if they had a mind and a will of their own.

   “You’re bluffing…” the general tries, although his tone is all but convincing.

   To prove that he isn’t, the trespasser produces an envelope from his jacket pocket, throwing it on the desk for the other man to retrieve.    He’s not stupid enough to hand anything directly to the trained military officer with no conscience or morals, as that would practically be an invitation for the man to engage in physical combat.

   Hayword picks it up and pulls the top open, sliding the one folded piece of paper out and taking a step back before he unfolds it, since looking at it requires him to take his eyes off his enemy, and he wants a little more space between them first, to give himself another second of reaction time, should Tovar decide to attack when his focus is elsewhere.    But one look at the paper in his hands is enough to make him realize that his unwanted guest fights his battles in a different way.

   “Who the fuck are you?” he asks between tight jaws, as he refocuses on the man who stands in the middle of his office, with his arms hanging loosely down his sides, seeming as unbothered by this encounter as he would meeting a tree in the forest.

   “My name is Mr. Hood,” he replies, and then pauses to let the general absorb that, clearly familiar with the infamous name, before he continues. “Ordinarily, I never work for anyone other than myself, but in this instance, I’ve made an exception.    And her name is Nikita Morse.”

   The older man doesn’t seem terribly surprised to hear that, but his mood shifts again because he’s well aware of how important that woman is right now, not just to the US military, and even government, but to the general himself.    Failure to ascertain or assassinate this particular target wouldn’t go over well with his superiors. Best case scenario is that he merely loses his job.

   “If you know anything about Morse, you know we can’t just leave her be,” he counters, but there isn’t much conviction behind his words anymore.

   “And I’m here to inform you that if you don’t, I will not only ruin your life… I’ll come after everyone. Straight up the chain of command, all the way to the President himself,” Pero cautions, meaning every word.

   “You’d never get close to anyone else. I’ve seen your face, we’ll be able to track your every move from now on, you won’t be able to take a shit without us hearing about it.”

   “Oh, but that won’t be necessary. You see, my method has always been to use middle-hands for everything, and this is no different. My face won’t help you because I won’t be the one who delivers the damning evidence to the courts, or the spouses, or the children.    I’ve been doing this for a long time, general. Long enough to know how to infiltrate your innermost circles and get your terrified wife to confess to exactly what you do to her, just like I know how colonel Peters doesn’t go to church for the sermons, or why the Chairman himself has no less than three hidden bank accounts in different parts of the world.”

   Hayword merely swallows hard at that, but Tovar can see how he’s still looking for a way out, refusing to accept that this one man could ever do so much damage.

   “So, you’re willing to die for this woman? Because you gotta know no matter what you might have on me, I can’t let you waltz out of here.”

   “Well now, the problem isn’t really what I have on you, is it?” he taunts, knowing he’s still got the upper hand here and ready to play his cards as savagely as he possibly can.

   “The fuck does that mean?”

   “Tyler…” Pero says softly, and all color drains from the general’s face.

   Because even he knows that out of all the messed up shit his family has going on, his oldest son takes the cake, by miles.

   “Where was it you found him the first time? Arizona? With those poor boys he’d raped just bleeding out on the ground…    And what did you do? You helped him cover it up. He killed two little kids, and you just swept it under the rug like it never happened.    The second time was in Tennessee, if I’m not mis-…”

   “Alright! You’ve made your god damned point!” the general all but roars as the truth gets to be too much for him. “Just… stop.”

   But his unwanted guest isn’t one to let his marks off easy.

   “I can’t do that. Unless you stop first. That’s the only way this ends, because even if I die, my informants will continue to do my bidding. They’ll have no choice. I’ve made sure of it.”

   “Do you have any idea how dangerous the information your girl sits on is? How powerful that knowledge would be in the hands of our enemies?” Hayword presses, but his tone betrays nuances of desperation now.

   “Yes, I do. But the problem here, general, is what you have failed to understand about all this, which is that when you turn on your own… the definition of an enemy suddenly becomes very broad.    Right now, for instance, you’re my biggest enemy. The US government is my enemy. Not because of my own history or even your politics, but simply because you used and discarded some of the greatest scientific minds of this country, as if they were worthless.    How am I supposed to trust anyone who treats their own assets that way?”

   “No, you just blackmail your own fucking assets instead…”

   “The difference being that I’ve never tried to hide it from them or gone back on my word to leave them alone if they do what I demand. I tell them from the start exactly what’s happening and how to avoid it escalating into something truly unpleasant, and if they play along, nothing bad happens to them.    You told these people they were free to go live their lives, and then you hunted them down like cattle to the slaughter.    I’m no saint, but at least I don’t hide behind an army so I can pretend to be the good guy.”

   The general has no comeback for that, but he’s deeply unhappy with how this conversation is going, that much is evident from the ever-growing hopelessness in his eyes.

   “Considering what I’ve just told about myself and my methods, I have only one more thing to ask you, sir,” Pero finally determines, holding the man’s gaze with pure steel in his own, as he delivers the last question. “Will you comply with my demand, and seize all pursuit, physical and digital, of the innocent woman we both know as Nikita Morse?”

   “It’s not within my power to command.”

   “Yes, it is. In fact, you are the only person with the power to make that command. If you weren’t, I’d be in someone else’s office right now.”

   “I can’t risk the safety of this country-…”

   “And losing the entire government, along with all trust from the American people, isn’t risking the safety of this country?” Tovar counters, letting his voice turn sharp and somewhat threatening to highlight the ridiculousness of the man’s reasoning.

   The general falters at that, unable to think of a retort. He’s painted into a corner, held hostage on one side by the responsibilities he carries against his superiors, and on the other, by Pero’s ultimatum. Either way, he risks terrifying consequences both to himself and those around him, so the only questions which remains, is whether he values family or his work the highest.

   Pero is ordinarily exceptional at reading people and their intentions, but on this occasion, he can’t determine what the general will decide.    With how he treats his wife, one could be forgiven for thinking he doesn’t give a shit about her, but on the other hand, he’s gone to great lengths and sacrificed a lot in the name of protecting his son.

   So, the trespasser waits. And the man deliberates.

   Then…

   “I have your word that my family affairs will not be publicized, in any forum, on any type of platform, physical or digital, if I agree to call off the search on Morse?”

   “If you pick up that phone and make the call to the Chief, declaring her dead and dealt with, right now in front of my eyes, and give me every assurance that no further efforts will be spent, from any unit, military, private or otherwise, on further pursuing her, covertly or openly, then yes. I will disappear, and you will never see me again.”

   “And what about the outside sources who already pursue her?”

   “They’ll be dealt with; I can promise you that.”

   The general takes one more moment to consider, and then makes his decision.    He picks up the phone, and just to make sure that he knows he can’t trick his way out of this, Pero recites the number he needs to call, checking that the man does indeed punch in the correct digits and insisting that he put the phone on speaker.    The call is brief and to the point, and when it’s over, the unwanted guest leaves the same way he walked in.

   No alarms start blaring. No one tries to stop him. The general has kept his word.    For now.    But Tovar fully intends to keep monitoring him closely.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   Two months after he disappeared, Niki has all but stopped believing he’s ever coming back.    She never stands by the curtained windows anymore, dreaming of stepping outside into the freedom and fresh air. She no longer pesters William for updates, desperate for any scrap of news about her lover.    She persists. Her life is a prison-like routine of exercise, food, and sleep. Nothing more.

   If not for the baby, she would’ve given up by now and taken her chances on the streets. But she can’t risk the life she carries.    His child, and maybe all that’s left of him.    Weeks ago, she made a choice to think of him as dead, and allow herself to grieve him, because otherwise she would’ve been buried under the endless torrent of uncertainty. So, to her mind, he’s gone, and he isn’t coming back.

   In his place, Will does what he can, taking care of the housework and making sure that Niki follows her routines to stay healthy and give the baby the best conditions available.    He stopped telling her about any leads he finds a while back, after noticing that it only ever upsets her when nothing comes of them. But she knows he still searches.    That the hours spent in front of those screens aren’t merely to make sure he knows if someone picks up their trail, but also to look for any clue his missing friend might’ve left for him.

   She worries about him. He’s a fragile person, prone to denial, but eventually he will have to accept that his searching is in vain, and when that happens, however long it might take for him to reach that point, it’s going to absolutely destroy him.    But she suspects it’ll take him years to get there.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   Without Will’s help, it takes three times longer for Pero to find the people he needs to find next. But he can’t risk contacting them.    Hayword has thus far stuck to his word, and so long as the three of them only have the Chinese element to worry about, he’s not gonna jeopardize their best chance of getting out of this in one piece, just because he misses Niki.

   He does though. So fucking much.    It’s impossible not to think about her, not to wonder if her belly has begun to swell, or worry that she’s had to come to terms with having lost the baby, without him there to grieve with her and comfort her.    That’s the hardest part. Not knowing if she needs him right now.

   But he’s close to finishing this, he’s finally found the person who’s after her. It took this long only because the woman was hiding behind a network of decoys, but once Pero figured it out, locating the actual culprit wasn’t very hard.    What is going to be hard, though, is getting to her. She’s got layers upon layers of security, and lives in what’s essentially a fortress, forcing her enemy to keep his distance and observe.

   Mr. Hood is not a man who enjoys violence, and although he is good at fighting when it’s required of him, he’s always preferred a more elegant solution. It generally creates less ripples on the water, less potential future complications.    But this time, he may have no choice.    His research into this woman has revealed no skeletons, probably not because there aren’t any, but more likely due to her exceptional skills at manipulation.

   She runs her miniature empire not by instilling fear in her subjects, but by making them love her and thus desire nothing more than to protect her.    To get to her, Pero is gonna need to get creative. He already knows that what she wants from the information Niki can provide, is to use it as leverage against the male dominance of her country’s leaders and decision makers. She wants a seat at the table.    But what he can’t figure out is how to offer her something either better than the weapon’s research, or something scary enough to make her back off.

   Everyone has something in their history they don’t want people to know. And this is always especially true of the rich. The problem is that her circle is so tight he can’t get to her from the outside. Can’t rummage through her secrets by coercing someone to feed them to him, because everyone who might know them live in the fortress with her. All equally inaccessible.    Unless… he tries something really stupid.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   “Come on, Tovar,” William grumbles to himself, having once again checked all his online traps for signs of the missing member of their group, and come up dry. “Give me a damned crumb, will ya.”

   It’s the middle of the night and Niki’s asleep, so he keeps his voice down, but this is how he spends most nights these days. Hunched over his keyboard, restlessly searching in ever more unlikely places. He’s got programs running non-stop, some designed to look for Pero’s physical description in coroners reports from all over the world, others to look for mentions of his alias in people’s voice mails, emails, text messages, and so on. He’s got dozens of these programs running every minute of every day.

   Nothing pings anymore. After almost three months, there are no leads.    Nikita gave up on him a while ago. But not because she doesn’t want him to come back or because she doesn’t believe in him. She gave up because hope hurts too much.    She doesn’t have a choice now, but to focus her efforts on her baby, and she tries. But Will can see how it tortures her. That however much she might try and convince herself he’s dead and that she’s grieved him, the hope is still there.

   That’s why Will hardly ever rests.    Even if he can’t bring her partner back to her, he can at least try to give her closure, if indeed Pero has been lost.    But unlike Niki, the veteran still leans on his hope. He still believes that the mysterious Mr. Hood is alive, working hard on keeping her safe. He’s got too much experience with the man to believe he could be bested even by enemies of this caliber.

   And what drives his hope most of all, is actually the lack of findings. Because if Tovar had been killed, someone would’ve been yelling about it, somewhere in the world. A person like him doesn’t just vanish, not when so many people have reason to fear what he knows, and how that information might be distributed upon his demise.    No, he’s still alive. Plotting, scheming, hunting. Wherever he is, he’s not done.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   It was far from a perfect plan, but as he now stands before his quarry, finally, after weeks of patiently waiting in a dungeon, he’s smiling internally at the fact that he’s about to win this war.    Getting himself captured might’ve seemed counterintuitive, but it had been the only way to get himself inside the fortress, where he’d been able to start sowing seeds of doubt within the residents and learn more about his captor in the process.

   And now he has the woman herself, Baozhai Gao, in front of him at last.    He knows how to get her to back off, just like he knows that she’s actually not a villain. Her entire life has been spent in a silent war, a constant threat to her existence, and all she wants is just to have enough power that she doesn’t have to fight anymore.    Something he can easily give her.

   “I’m told you are responsible for the loss of my best team,” she says once he’s standing before her, tied up and on his knees, but otherwise unharmed.

   He’s waited until today to disclose to his guards that he knows all about the house in the woods and the six operatives who never returned from there, since Gao clearly doesn’t know who he is by face alone.

   “It was my house they tried to infiltrate in search of Miss Morse,” he admits, and sees her interest pique at the mention of Niki. “Unfortunately for them, I’m a very resourceful person. And someone who cares a great deal about the woman you seek.”

   “You know where she is,” Gao hungrily replies, too enamored by learning this to realize that what he’s really saying is, he’s never going to help her find her quarry.

   “I know a lot of things, Baozhai. Like what your brother did to you when you were twelve. How he tried to sell you so that your parents would only have him to dote on.    I know about The Park and what you were made to do there, the things you had to do to free yourself, the things the ensuing guilt then made you do to yourself… I know you’ve had about the shittiest life anyone could imagine and that all you want is just to be free of men and our endless pursuit of power.”

   She looks absolutely sick to hear him say this, and he understands that, because this woman has never shared her secrets with anyone. Not really. She carries her deepest burdens alone, specifically so that no one can use them against her.    And now here’s this foreigner, this outsider, who somehow knows her innermost truths.

   “How?” she challenges, and there’s both anger and desperation dripping from the one little word as it falls across her lips.

   “That’s not as important as why.”

   “It’s important to me.”

   “Only because you fear that someone else might learn about it, but I can assure you, they won’t. I’m not here to hurt you, just to make a deal.”

   “A deal? You mean blackmail me into leaving Nikita Morse alone.”

   “No. I mean offer you something even more valuable, in exchange for her freedom,” he counters, deliberately using the word freedom instead of suggesting she should cooperate, since he knows what that word means to Gao.

   She doesn’t respond verbally, but her eyes tell him to go on.

   “I can provide you with damning information about half the world’s most influential people. From leaders and corporate whales to those you’ve never even heard of, but who’s networks of information are crucial to the balance of power within this world.”

   “If you really have this kind of information, why not use it yourself?” she challenges, not ready to believe that anyone could have that level of power and just sit on it.

   “Because I’ve never had any ambitions. All I’ve ever wanted is just for people to stop being cruel for the pettiest fucking reasons, but I could never find anyone who didn’t disappoint.    And then I met Niki. And now all I want is just to be with her. To not have to run or hide for the rest of our lives. To find out if our baby made it-…”

   He has to stop then, because the thought reminds him of how long he’s been away, and it tortures him to think of how Niki must hate him now. How she must’ve come to the conclusion that he’s either abandoned her completely, or that he’s dead.    If the baby did make it, she’ll be halfway through the pregnancy by now, but unable to see a doctor or an OBGYN, unable to even leave the apartment. And he can imagine what something like that would do to a person like her.

   Whether Gao believes him or not, she decides that the information he offers is too valuable to pass up and agrees to a deal.    It takes him another two days to convince her of his truthfulness, however, which he does by offering up absolutely crushing evidence against one of her worst adversaries, but then she finally lets him go.

-=¤=-

   Returning to New York is just as terrifying as it had been to leave. He has to be cautious, though. Not rush back to the apartment building, but instead take the time to make sure Hayword is still keeping his word.    He makes his presence in the city known by walking around where dozens of different cameras will capture his face and body in detail, and then he makes himself disappear again, sticking to the shadows as he watches and waits.

   After five days, he decides that if someone is still watching, he’ll risk it. He has to see her again, even if it means getting back on the run.    He walks straight up to the front door of the building and steps inside, heading for the elevators and going to the correct floor without detours or any attempts at confusing anyone who might be tracking him.

   The doors open and he walks out into the hallway, suddenly so scared that they won’t be there. That no one will answer when he knocks.    He passes a painting and sees his reflection in the glass, abruptly concerned that he hasn’t dressed better, or combed his hair, or washed his hands since going to the bathroom that morning. As if any of it matters.

   Instead of peepholes, there are little widescreen cameras at chest height in each apartment door, directly linked to a touchscreen inside, which automatically displays what the camera sees if there’s movement within its field of vision. So, they’ll know it’s him before they even open. If they’re still there.

   His hand shakes as he raises it towards the flat surface before him, and he hesitates, taking a couple of trembling breaths before he taps on the door, so timidly that it barely makes a sound at first, and he has to coerce his hand to tap harder.    His heart races while he waits, too loud in his own ears for him to hear if there are any sounds from in there. Any signs of movement. It takes so long.

   Then the deadbolt turns.    The handle slowly drops.    The door begins to swing open.

   His breath vanishes as she comes into view. Her eyes are wide but so bleak, her skin still too pale, her movements slow and cautious.    But she’s fuller now. Thicker. And there’s a well-defined bump in between her hips.

   All this time, he’s forced himself not to let it in. Not to allow the reality of the threat against them settle into his being, not to let his fears have any room because that would’ve broken him, and he couldn’t afford it.    Those walls crumble at the sight of her, and he drops like a ton of bricks onto the threshold, collapsing to his hands and knees as the four months of terror catch up to him.

   He feels her hands grip him, stronger now, but trembling just like his as she pulls him into her embrace. And he wants to hold her, but his arms won’t obey. Wants to kiss her but his body is suddenly so heavy.    Somewhere to his right, he hears William ask if it’s over, and he manages to nod. Shortly after, sunlight streams into the apartment as the man has apparently pulled the curtains back. How dearly he must’ve longed to get to do that.

   Then the sweetest voice he’s ever heard in all his life, whispers in his ear.

   “I love you, Pero.”

   She’d promised him she’d say it. When it was over.

   “I… I love you… both,” he stammers through the tears, just as he’d promised.

THE END

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

Thank you for taking this journey with me!

@pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x original female character #pero tovar x ofc #modern!pero #modern!au #the great wall fanfiction #the great wall au #the great wall modern au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories

[ask-neloth]

[A tidy scroll lies innocently on your desk when you return to it, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It was not there previously. It carries no curses or enchantments of any kind, and the piece of twine holding it together slips loose with a single tug. The handwriting within is sharp, traditional. Daedric script with Morrowind orthography. It reads:] Master Neloth, I heard that you were accepting questions, and so I ask one, if you will answer. Burn this letter if you will not. I divide practitioners of magic into the arcane and the Daedric. Of the latter, there are the bound and the unbound. I am bound to one Daedra Lord, and this limits the scope of my magic. My question is this: How can my gifts be applied to a study of the arcane? [The letter is unsigned, but you have your suspicions.]

Hmm, a proper question at long last. Though right away I would say you are limiting yourself needlessly. You even say: ‘I divide practitioners…’. For what reason? It’s not that you are incorrect, for there are mages among us who couldn’t even light a candle, yet with the assistance of a Daedric Prince could set the world ablaze. So I am going to assume that your magicka reserves are quite shallow and that your Prince gives you the ability to practice with any amount of competence.

Now, while I can’t say I know who you are as an individual, the style of your script and the specific formalities you invoke tell me you are a Morrowind native, most likely Vvardenfell. So, there is likely one of three Daedric Princes you find yourself in service to, and I think it’s quite easy to infer which one given the…secrecy you imploy. 

The Webspinner, though often cruel, is a remarkably practical Prince to serve, though I can only assume she was attracted to you through the sheer amount of misfortune your life must contain. Mephala does not seek out those who live sunny lives. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t tend to toy with mortals for her own amusement. She is the Plot-Weaver; you have a purpose within her web. Your query aligns well with her realm, so I believe the answer will be far simpler than you might have originally imagined. 

How can you apply these gifts to the study of the arcane? Try to frame your study within Mephala’s sphere. The arcane arts already deal in secrecy and mystery, so this should not feel unnatural. 

Do not seek surface-level spells and concepts that any sideshow performer could master. You must burrow deep and uncover spellforms lost to time—techniques that no longer have names. You will both excel as a master of the arts and please your patron. She may very well offer you a boon for your efforts. 

Now, if I assumed the wrong, you may simply apply this concept to the sphere of whomever it is you serve. But I sincerely doubt that I am wrong. Feel free to inform me of your progress.    

#neloth answer #mephala #magicka theory

[a-luran]

4, 11, and 17 for the character ask! Whomever you wish but I would never say no to more Scotland lore 👀

aaah! rainbow! i live for Alasdair lore although I admit it changes a little between AUs (even canon ones).

4.Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

I can think of so many moments, big and small that fundamentally changed him but I'll outline two defining moments nobody witnessed.

The first I actually wrote a scene for a while back: him watching Arthur get his throat slit and holding him, after. I think that it matters especially that it happened in the 14th century and that it reframed his perception of war and conflict as well as his relationship to humans and nations both. I see it as the moment, as well, in which he finally paused in his anger and thought 'no more'. That is not to say that he became any less angry; oh no, he has a short fuse. But the taste of his anger changed, the consistency of it. I think maybe Francis could possibly suspect that something was different behind Alasdair's eyes the next time they met, but he doesn't know the first thing about it. Arthur definitely noticed a shift in their relationship, as did everyone else in their dysfunctional band of brothers, but it was Arthur who felt the shift most and probably resented it because the next fight they had it was like beating against a wall or trying to move a mountain. This is an ask about Alasdair so I won't go on too long about Arthur but I think that in his insecurity, and in his youth, it probably made Arthur feel small to finally appreciate what a truly formidable man Alasdair is when it comes to his convictions and his will. His stubborn, bull-headed will.

The second one was losing a leg. And I am definitely cheating with this one because it is a headcanon that does not apply to every AU, but bear with me. He loses a leg from the knee down, his left. His strongest leg. There is a general consensus, I think, from people who witness a loss like that, or an accident, or extended illness, to assume that we understand how it changed the person who lived through it. In Alasdair case I think that there would be a lot of silent speculation, early on, about what it would do to him. How he'd adapt, whether he would, how he would talk about it if he talked about it at all. Crucially though, he was alone when it happened. He was alone on a medical cot the first time he became conscious of it. Alone when he had to find his balance for the first time. Alone, essentially, the first time they fit him with a prosthetic. I think that even he would struggle to put into words the ways in which it changed him. It didn't make him a better man, or a worse man. It fundamentally altered his relationship with his body. It changed how others saw him, how they touched him. It happened in the interlude between wars and took him out of active service and no one was there to see. Only his eyes on the letter of dismissal, with only one foot against the ground.

11.In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

I think that he was the most afraid when he realised he would live forever on a conditional immortality.

17.What was your character’s favourite toy as a child?

I think it was wee stag carved from alder wood, so smoothed with age that when it was passed on o Arthur and Daffyd they thought it was a wolf.

#freagradh #hws scotland #thank you for an excuse to talk about the man

[sagau-my-beloved]

I feel once venti relationship with creator got past the awkward room mate stage to the “practically sleeping in each other’s beds for more than JUST sleeping in each other’s beds” venti practically tried to get as much time woohooing under the sheets with creator as possible in that year before they both were dragged back to tyvat by albedo. That’s practically one of the reasons he says him and creator are practically married, since the whole fuck culture that exists here is nonexistent in tvat except in certain scummy places (brothels). Tho creator probably just thinks of him as fuck buddies or even bf/gf if she ever asked if he wanted to take the relationship to the next step.

'woohooing' omfg 💀

The latter part of that is something I was trying to insinuate, I really don't think casual sex and hookup culture is really thriving down there, and I especially don't think it would have been thriving when Venti was learning about the social norms of the world around him, so he probably would very heavily associate being intimate with a solid committed relationship, meanwhile titles are a bit looser around here, so if a particular form of relationship isn't specified, then it certainly isn't guaranteed, no matter what actions may or may not have been performed

Really there's so much room for miscommunication because of the potential in completely different social norms between Teyvat and our world, either in a comedy or drama sense, it's just there waiting to be utilized

But yeah Venti acting like a horny teenager, where he's just constantly in the mindset of 'Take me!' sounds pretty canon to me

And whenever they both do get back to Teyvat he'd be pretty upset about a lot of realizations, like the fact you two aren't actually in a committed relationship, and just because he makes you breakfast every morning and is super enthusiastic about being intimate with you doesn't mean you two are actually together in any way that really matters

Of course he's working on rectifying that the moment the realization hits, but sadly, since he didn't get in on it back when you two were living alone together and there wasn't actively a couple thousand people competing for your attention that you had a sense of obligation to, the best he can really hope for is consort

Though that's not going to stop him from calling himself your soulmate/spouse/lover to anyone and everyone who does and doesn't ask, as far as he's concerned, you two are completely bound together

Which also means there's going to be a pretty heavy surge of unpleasant feelings if you do have multiple consorts, and those apply tenfold if you actually treat them all the same

He's probably bitterly thought that if what you have is more comparable to an open relationship, then what exactly is stopping him from going around and sleeping with whomever he pleases? Since that's what you seem to be doing and all, with no regards to his own feelings might he add

The problem is there is no one else in the world he would prefer to have that sort of relationship with, and he probably couldn't even force himself in that position with another person if he really tried because it would feel too much like being unfaithful to you

Poor poor Venti, forever suck falling hopelessly in love with a person that hundreds of others are also hopelessly in love with

Funny little situation to end this off, but like the interaction I did with the sagau and yandere Ventis, if either regular sagau Venti or reverse isekai after they both return to Teyvat Venti met reverse isekai still in the creators world Venti... Both would tell him to never ever ever ever bring to reader to Teyvat ever and just stay there happy together because it gets so much worse

It's like the little devil/angel on the shoulder thing where the angel side would theoretically be Venti doing his due diligence to every single person in Teyvat and also you by returning you to your rightful place in your rightful position, where you would receive so many more luxuries than he could ever hope to give you himself, but both of them are just little devils and are all "If you take the creator back to Teyvat I will actually personally kill you right here for being an idiot. For the love of Barbatos (wait a minute—) don't do it!"

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #brainrot

[yallemagne]

I think maybe my biggest problem with the polycule jokes is that...

Well, first of all, it really makes a mockery out of actual polyamorous relationships and degrades them as being nothing more than a sex thing-- but I'm not getting into that--

Lucy is not in love with Jack. She does not have romantic feelings for Jack. Certainly not at this point in the story, though their relationship develops later on (I could still see them remaining platonic, however, even though I do support the ship). And she doesn't even have much faith in the future of their friendship. She sees through his "You can count me one of your best friends" and knows it's not so easy as that, certainly not for Jack, at least. Sometimes, when you have such intense romantic feelings for someone and they don't reciprocate, you can't accept a different form of relationship instead. Especially so early into knowing someone-- the sunk-cost fallacy doesn't really apply.

This is not to rag on Jack, of course. It's just I feel that the "let Lucy have her three husbands!!" jokes come primarily from a lack of understanding of Lucy's words and actually devalue Lucy's romantic feelings for Arthur and even Quincey because she only considers marrying Jack as a way to save him from heartache, not a decision made out of romantic love for him. Jack is not on an equal playing field with the other two, and the way people try to make it equivalent is by taking Quincey and Arthur down a peg. Or two. Or three.

It also has undertones of people seeing Lucy as a queen bee and the men as just her worthless drones. Aaaand that, again, is inaccurate and contributes to awful depictions of her.

Lucy is polyamorous!! My long post states it! I am in agreement with that reading!! But Lucy does not want to marry Jack or Quincey. Lucy probably still would have rejected Jack even if not for Arthur. Meanwhile, with Quincey, I do see a possibility that if Arthur were not in her life, she would have accepted his proposal or at least given herself time to think about it before coming to a decision. But nevertheless, Arthur is in her life, and even without truly knowing that he plans to propose, she has her heart set on him.

It's just so much more complex than Lucy and her satellite boyfriends. They have their own lives and relationships that don't entirely revolve around her, and she is not so indifferent to them as to view them all in the same detached way. Lucy does not see her Suitors as Dracula sees the Weird Sisters: as just three mere possessions kept to serve one's vanity. She respects Jack and values his friendship, mourning the possibility she may no longer have it after rejecting him romantically. She has burgeoning feelings for Quincey that she has decided not to act on because she is devoted to Arthur, but she still cherishes him as a friend. And she's loved Arthur since before any of this and longs to be with him and is always reminded of him wherever she goes and whomever she talks to. It's a disservice to all characters involved to simplify that into a dumb joke.

#I do think Lucy has the potential to develop romantic feelings for Jack #just certainly not *right now* #the polycule has so much potential but I feel it is severely misrepresented as just girlboss women and their male lapdogs #rather than mutual relationships built on love and trust #dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula #lucy westenra #jack seward #quincey p morris #quincey morris #arthur holmwood

[ineedhelp-posts]

hii! idk if you write for him but can you do a pure fluff of tetcho as ur bf! tysmmm💕

A cute lil Tetchou x reader fluff!

Bestie I'll try 🫶 but I'm currently procrastinating a school assignment 😙

✧･ﾟ:* This man as your boyfriend*:･ﾟ✧ ★ Pure fluff, no warnings apply ☆○o GN! Reader yay you!

-This is 745 words, so enjoy my dearest anon!

-Tetchō Suehiro, despite being a very busy man due to his work with the Hunting Dogs, always made time for you. He’s a very practical man, and almost everything he does has a purpose. He loved you to almost no end, and any chance he had free time, he planned on spending it with you. From simple walks in the park to fancy (but weird) food dates, it was quite obvious from the start that this man was down BAD for you.

“Y/n! I brought you some flowers, love! I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to the movies?” He said with that soft voice that made your heart flutter and those butterflies in your stomach run rampant. You always knew he only showed this soft side of him to you, after all, he had his reputation at his work at stake. He had to be the serious, perfect soldier for them, but with you, he could be whomever he wanted. He felt most comfortable with you. (Let’s hope you feel the same way, lol)

“Ah, Tetchō! Of course, I’d want to go to the movies with you!” You hummed and smiled in response to his sweet request. Upon hearing your affirmation, he grabbed his coat and seemed like he was ready to leave. “Tetchō…? Um, I still have to get ready.” You said, suddenly holding in the urge to giggle. From time to time, he would try to rush things or make things insanely planned out, but you knew he was just trying his best for you. His cheeks flushed red, and he looked at the ground. “Oh. I knew that. Take your time, dear. I can wait for however long you need.” He glanced up at you and gave you that sweet smile that made you melt.

You quickly returned to your room, got dressed, did your hair, and whatever else you needed to do before you left. You ran back into the living room, where Tetchō was waiting surprisingly patiently. He beamed upon seeing you, and his cheeks were tinged with a light dusting of pink. “You look…” He paused to look at you up and down, and cover his mouth with his hand as his cheeks turned even more red. “I-I don’t even know the word…” He chuckled in disbelief, though you were certain that this was just a normal outfit.

You blushed and smiled warmly at Tetchō’s reaction. It’s always flattering to receive this kind of reaction from him, especially knowing he’s usually so serious and stoic with his co-workers. You took his hand and squeezed reassuringly. “Y’know, I could get used to this kind of attention~!” You teased, though it was because you loved seeing him so adorably flustered. “You ready to go?” You felt the smile on your face widening as you looked at him. The expression on his face was a beautiful mixture of the utterly star-struck look in his eyes and the blush on his face that truly conveyed how much he cared about you. He snapped out of his reverie and nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready, love.”

The car ride to the movie theater was a quick one, and Tetchō was being unusually chivalrous. He opened the car door for you and called you names such as “Milady” or “Princess”. It was a sweet gesture, resulting in giggles and proud beams from Tetchō. He bought you your favorite snacks and drinks, smuggling them if the good ones (cough cough pocky-) weren’t in the theater. You two sat down together and watched your favorite movie. You leaned on his shoulder and he patted your head and played with your hair lovingly.

After the movie, you two went to a cafe and sat down at a well-furnished table. He bought you your favorite drink, and you two shared it. (Unless you’re like me and would want it all to myself-) He held your hand for most of the day and continued to do so even on the car ride home. When you got back to your house, you cuddled on the couch, laying your head on his chest. You felt the soft rising and falling of his breathing, and found yourself slipping into a sleep. “Oh, love,” He murmured into your ear, “I’m so glad you finally fell asleep. You deserve it, after such a long day. I had so much fun with you.” He kissed your forehead and pulled the blanket over you.

AHH THAT HURT TO WRITE im so touch deprived :(

#tetchou x reader #tetchō suehiro #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #fluff writing